The Doctor's Damsel
by JeffC FTW
Summary: The story runs deeper: Rachel Dawes and Jonathan Crane are divorced and their relationship is near to subzero point when he takes petty revenge in declaring Falcone's men legally insane. But what happens when the exes come back together after Scarecrow is exposed?
1. Photographs and Trials

**I always wanted to do a Jonathan Crane and Rachel Dawes fic, so now I bring you "The Doctor's Damsel". After reading a couple other fics of them that were never finished, "On the Brink of Control" by ToryTigress (which I recently noticed was taken off the site for unknown reasons, and I LOVED that story) and "Promises and Threats" by slytherin-until-i-die, it seemed like a great idea. :)**

 **The theory was the question behind WHY Dr. Jonathan Crane and Assistant DA Rachel Dawes hated each other so much, and even though I know realistically that they wouldn't - what if they were high school sweethearts, married after college, but it never worked out? It ought to explain why he hated her most of all, and she thought that him taking her perpetrators from jail and into his asylum was his way of paying her back...and then she learns her ex-husband was in much deeper and more mentally unstable than she thought. Miss Dawes - the former Mrs. Crane - gets on for a rollercoaster of a ride she should have anticipated. There's more to the story to come, and it will be done and NOT abandoned. You all have my word.**

 **I'll try not to whine or beg, but if anyone likes this story, besides favoriting and following, I would really appreciate a review or two from anyone. It's a great motivation to continue, and I update either every day or every other day. I enjoy the process and try not to stress.**

 **Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. And thanks to Cillian Murphy and Katie Holmes, two of my most favorite people in the world.**

Chapter One

Photographs and Trials

She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow, and any other day to follow, but tonight she had trouble sleeping in her bed which was sprawled with covers patterned like an exotic paradise, because her eyes were on the wooden framed photograph which was in bamboo because it brought serenity and peace, but not tonight. That picture on the smooth mahogany stand beside her bed was looking at her in the dark, tormenting her more than the scum on the streets of this city which she wanted to save.

It was her wedding day. Just six years ago, and it seemed like it was forever.

Rachel closed her eyes as she felt the inside of her being start to aggravate her once again. She and Jonathan Crane had not been on the best of terms when they divorced four years ago, after only two happy years - or could you really call nights of him coming home so late, him always in the lab while she was in the office doing everything she could to arrest the monsters who hurt innocent people at night, worked to put Carmine Falcone behind bars and having a lack of passion that had diminished after the first month?

Their wedding had been a _Swan Lake_ theme, taken place in the countryside and under a tree, surrounded with little jars filled with moss and wildflowers, and she'd dressed very elegantly in a satin sheath overlaid with embroidered lace and beaded metallic accents, her shoulders covered with little lace cap sleeves. Her long brunette curls had been free, set with a soft bird cage over her face, and her jewelry kept to a minimal with the necklace that _he_ gave her while they were in college. The promise that this was nothing compared to leaving a single rose for her to find, and it had been what a young girl dreamed of more than anything. _At the time_.

Bruce had not been there when she got married. Her mother, her boss Mr. Finch, Alfred, and some of her and Jonathan's colleagues were there, but one person had been missing. No one had seen Bruce for a year at the time since he left Gotham, wherever he was now.

Some people spoke that he was off high-skiing in the mountains, others said he went to Morocco for some exotic women and desert travels to clear his mind off of the shooting of Joe Chill, but Rachel knew him better than that. _At least, I hope I did. He never once called me, his best friend since we were kids,_ she thought bitterly, before it became guilt.

 _All of those things I said to him..._

All of those words she spoke to him, telling him that his father would have been ashamed of him for trying to kill his and Martha Wayne's murderer. Chill had been desperate, not greedy; he had been a victim of Falcone's cold rule, but killing Thomas Wayne and his wife in front of their son was inexcusable. But still, she'd been cruel to Bruce, and he had vanished the next day.

Just as the last word she truly spoke to her ex-husband was that she didn't want to see him again. Rachel wanted commitment and compromise; that was what marriage was, but compromise was one of the many difficulties they shared. She shook her head as she remembered that arrogant smirk every time she gave in to his demands; the Jonathan she remembered from high school - they were high school sweethearts - would not have started to ask so much of her, so she once more asked herself this question:

 _What_ happened _to us?_

~o~

"In my opinion, Mr. Zsasz is as much a danger to himself as to others..." He paused right there only briefly, but he didn't make eye contact with the vixen herself whose fierce blue eyes burned on his face. "...and prison is probably not the best environment for his...rehabilitation."

Those were always his words, for every patient he had evaluated and had moved into Arkham, but this time was the start of it burning out. All because of Falcone always calling him to ask him to get his thugs out of prison, his best ones who messed up. Their blood on Dr. Crane's hands? Not a chance.

But with every disgust came pleasure when he reduced them to pitiful animals, the needles holding his formula piercing their skin and drawing the howls of agony as he learned what they feared beneath their sadistic masks.

The judge banged the gavel and declared the sentence official. Victor Zsasz, the smirking orange-suit handcuffed and led through the back door, was ready to be prepped for Arkham Asylum. This would be the last one for awhile, and he would make SURE of it. There was too much at stake for the operation he and Ducard were preparing with his own personal fear toxin he had been devising and experimenting on since he was a child; the reason the university fired him and Rachel left him. He could not trust anyone, not even her, with his prized experiments with understanding human fears.

Trust had been one of their many issues during their short marriage. She wanted to save this crumbling city while he only wanted to live quiet and study fear, something that Gotham State University, their alma mater, had prevented him from publicly. And now, with the shortage of funds, he needed more of it for more batches as well as the compounds of the blue flowers from Asia. That was what tied the toxin together for the ultimate effect, triggering it in motion to the brain.

"Dr. Crane!"

That was their means of greeting ever since the divorce. Calling each other formally "Miss Dawes" or "Dr. Crane", instead of by their first names like they used to. She'd returned to her maiden name, even. "Miss Dawes," he said coolly, walking on with his suitcase in his hands. He was in a hurry to oversee his newest patient taken in, but she was riding him once more.

"Do you really think a man who butchers people for the mob doesn't belong in jail?"

One of the reasons he loved her was because she was feisty. In fact, a part of him still did. She never took shit from anyone, and since the separation, he would pay her back with declaring any of her perps unfit for life imprisonment, so it wasn't entirely for his own reasons. He wasn't afraid to admit that. "I would hardly," Crane answered smoothly, "have testified to that otherwise, wouldn't I? You know me well by now."

He knew he bristled her, because she stopped directly in front of him that he wanted to shove her aside, nevermind that beautiful athletic grace and brown dress suit partially hiding it. He felt his lip curl at the thought, even more at her. "Jonathan..." He locked eyes with her when she said his first name, and when he did, there was the soft questioning mingled with blue fire. She spoke more softly now if still inquisitive. "...this is the third of Carmine Falcone's thugs you've had declared insane and moved into your asylum. Why are you so interested in one of the biggest mob bosses' hit men instead of other people who actually need help the most?"

He snapped and lifted his chin at her. _How dare you question me about my "morals", Rachel!_ his mind sneered when he did. "Well, the work offered by organized crime must have an attraction to the insane. Now, if you don't mind, Mr. Zsasz needs the asylum director's attention."

"Or the _corrupt's_ attention," she returned when he began to walk away from her. Turning his back on her should have been the last resort, but Rachel was not fazed by a simple act like that. And the solution was right in front of them both.

"Mr. Finch!"

Carl Finch was not only the District Attorney of Gotham City, but he had dated Rachel for a short time since she divorced Jonathan Crane. When he saw the ex-husband and wife, he froze. "I think," Jonathan went on, enjoying every moment of this, "you should check with Miss Dawes here just what implications your office has authorized her to make...if any."

~o~

"What are you doing, Rachel?" her employer and short-time boyfriend demanded when he came up to her as soon as the head doctor of Arkham Asylum - and her ex-husband - was gone, her nerves on fire as ever.

"Before I answer, what are _you_ doing, Carl?" she snapped back when he tried to take her arm and pull her away, but it was back in his grasp.

"Looking out for you," he whispered harshly, dragging her off to the side to speak more softly. "Rachel, listen to me. Falcone has half this city - maybe your former husband - bought and paid for. For all we know, he DOES have Dr. Crane in his hand, so drop bothering him for getting Falcone's thugs off."

Rachel felt her jaw drop. "How could you SAY that?!" _After those cutthroats get away with going to warm and inviting therapy instead of a rotting prison cell, wasting the rest of their miserable lives away, you're telling me to let this go!_ Every day they lost a case, more people in Gotham suffered under Carmine Falcone's reign, and Jonathan Crane, the man she loved a long time ago, was _helping_ these monsters instead of letting them receive proper punishment.

"Because as much as I care about getting Falcone...I care more about you."

Rachel couldn't help but smile. He had been there for her since after Bruce was gone and she filed for divorce, but it didn't last. They were still professionals and had a mission to do together, and because of her bad experiences, she wasn't sure if she was ready to love again. Especially with everything happening in Gotham.

But that never stopped Jonathan Crane always on her mind.

 **So, it's obvious the two still have feelings for each other, but what happens when she meets Scarecrow? ;) Stay tuned, and read and review.**


	2. Someone Who Rattles Cages

**Among inspiration for this story was the song "Red" by Taylor Swift. :)**

Chapter Two

Someone Who Rattles Cages

 _"Jonathan, I can't do this anymore."_

 _"Rachel, how could you say this?"_

 _"Because this has gone on long enough! I tried all these years to be reasonable and understanding, but what did you give me in return? A mostly empty bed, hardly any time with me, and all you care about is your 'radical' theories as the university board called it! What about ME?"_

 _"What about you?!"_

 _"I'm your_ wife _, and I love you! But how long has it been since you told me that?"_

 _"I thought I made this clear once. I don't say it often, but you know I do. You know what your problem is? You expect TOO much just as much as you expect to clean up the streets of Gotham by putting the offenders in prison. Not all of them are in the shades of black and white that this world makes it to be; has it ever occurred to you that it's areas of gray, Rachel?"_

 _"You're talking as if you're one of them."_

 _"I'm NOT one of them. I'm speaking like the psychologist I am; I don't just take it in a simple diagnosis without a thorough investigation. But that's where we differ, isn't it?"_

 _"It seems so. I don't even know this man in front of me anymore."_

 _"I won't even ask what this means now for us."_

 _"Eight years of knowing you come to an end. I tried to love you as much as I could give, gave you a lot of what I had, but you gave me nothing in return. Not only that, you lost my sympathy for you and what happened with your father. Good bye, Jonathan."_

~o~

All she wanted to do was to forget about Jonathan Crane just for one day. Three days after the court case and losing to have Victor Zsasz put into Blackgate, she just wanted to work and hopefully the next one wouldn't involve him. _How would that be the day,_ she longed for, but chances were slim to none. The next call would always be Dr. Jonathan Crane, head of Arkham Asylum, being called to evaluate the mental stability of the accused.

"Carl, I need you to take a look at this," Rachel said as she walked in with the latest paperwork on a divorce settlement, nothing worth adrenaline-pumping but at least it was something that didn't involve her shrink ex sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Finch didn't look up when he took the papers. "Have you...seen him yet?"

"Who?" Her brow furrowed. If he meant Jonathan stopping by, which was unlikely...

"Wayne." Carl's smile was genuine when he looked up finally. "He's back. It's all over the news. And it's about time, too."

She was speechless. _Bruce...he's back. He's not dead._ At this point, she had no idea what to say or do other than retreat back into her part of the office and pick up the remote to turn the television on. And when she did, she sat back on the edge of her desk, stunned even more than before.

There was HIS face on the top right corner, having materialized from full screen version as the story went on: _"...billionaire Bruce Wayne and heir to Wayne Enterprises has just returned out of the blue from abroad just yesterday -"_

Rachel tuned the rest of the news out, looking off to the side at nothing in particular, only dwelling on one question: was Bruce the same one as she remembered, or did he change while he was gone? She was hoping he was the same Bruce she'd known since they were children, if there was a chance they could start over in this mess...

She wasn't even thinking about marriage now, not since the last time that didn't work out, but that didn't mean she didn't ever want to get married again. She liked to think that it didn't work out the first time because she rushed - or not, because it took time. Jonathan just wasn't the man for her after all.

 _Loving him is like driving a new Maserati_

 _down a dead-end street_

 _Faster than the wind, passionate as sin,_

 _ending so suddenly_

 _Loving him is like trying to change your mind_

 _once you're already flying through the free fall_

 _Like the colors in autumn, so bright_

 _just before they lose it all_

Jonathan had tried to run her life once, but once she left him four years ago, she had gotten her control back. Their relationship had been a sort of controlling one, but she was an independent woman in charge of her own destiny. No one, not even Jonathan Crane, would do that to her again.

However, Jonathan wasn't entirely domineering. There had been times he treated her like a princess, but she didn't feel like she ever deserved that. But, it had been so...intense. Their love life at night, few it was, was soft and gentle, though she could have sworn that he was urging to let loose whatever else he kept hidden inside him. You never forget anything like that no matter how much you wanted your psyche to shove it down.

 _Losing him was blue like I'd never known_

 _Missing him was dark grey all alone_

 _Forgetting him was like trying to know_

 _somebody you never met_

 _But loving him was red_

 _Loving him was red_

~o~

"No more favors," Crane said impatiently. He was paying Falcone a personal visit after leaving the hospital, and it could not wait a moment longer before the next shipment was due to arrive. "Someone is sniffing around, and if I do you anymore favors -"

The crime boss interrupted him, the nerve. "Hey, doc, ya don't need to lecture me. I scratch your back, you scratch mine; it's equal partnership, remember? I'm bringing in the shipments whether you asked or not."

And he certainly wanted them, but - "We're paying you for that."

"Well, then, maybe money doesn't interest me as much as favors do."

Having Carmine Falcone as a partner at Ducard's insistence was sometimes tolerable, but other times the opposite, and without him, then there would be no other means to smuggle the blue flowers into Gotham, or the other compound ingredients. Crane inhaled as he took his glasses off. "Mr. Falcone, I'm more than aware that you're not intimidated by me, but you know who I'm working for, and when he gets here -" He stopped to catch the horror and disbelief on Falcone's face. "Yes, he's coming here to Gotham. And when he does, he won't be happy that you've endangered our operation just to get your thugs out of a little jail time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." But the nod was brusque and clear bitterness. "Do I need to know who is bothering you, doc?"

He knew two options as to what Carmine Falcone would do in order to protect the operation once Crane told him - even when this one was his ex-wife. "A girl in the DA's office. But you won't even consider buying this one off. She's a spirited idealist on hot heels to have you behind bars." He couldn't help but laugh to himself, not giving Falcone the idea, but the other man was giving his own.

"Idealist, I should have guessed. Well, doc, there's an answer to the problem then." Jonathan didn't want to know, but he already knew what it was...and he unconsciously feared for Rachel's life no matter it being the solution for the sake of his entire life's work.

~o~

The night was clouding with smog, gray against black, that Rachel couldn't help but compare it as neutral versus negative. It was like what _he_ called as the in-between fighting against the simple side of life which was good and bad, but that wasn't what it was at all. He was corrupt, and she knew it. Why else would her former spouse and high school sweetheart be defending these monsters?

 _Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted_

 _was right there in front of you_

 _Memorizing him was as easy as_

 _knowing all the words to your old favorite song_

 _Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword_

 _and realizing there's no right answer_

 _Regretting him was like wishing you never found out_

 _that love could be that strong_

She was thinking too much about him as of late, when Bruce was back, but she hadn't even contacted him yet. As well, _he_ didn't even bother to contact _her_ , which made her more than a little angry. _Unless,_ her mind whispered, _he's readjusting to being back. Give it time._

 _Give it time, yes._

The monorail train came to an end at her stop. She tried not to look at anyone, given that some of these men in these parts were dangerous - but they didn't know she owned a taser.

The minute she was off the train and walking down the steps, she found herself looking down at the necklace from Jonathan. The diamond was heart-shaped, surrounded with little round ones and always exploding with brilliant white light. It was a really smart expression of true love, but they'd been teenagers - and that fire might have burned out in the two years they were married. But Rachel never had it in her to take this off; her own heart was still telling her that things might work out someday. But three years ago she'd given up her hope on Jonathan being a better man altogether.

 _Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes_

 _Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go_

 _But moving on from him is impossible_

 _When I still see it all in my head_

 _In burning red_

 _Burning, it was red_

It wasn't until she began to feel the chill of fear up her spine, but her taser was safely in her handbag. The reason she chose to take the train tonight was because her car's engine was being fixed, and she wouldn't have it back until Saturday, which was two days from now. Now she began to regret her decision when she met with the guy at the end coming up from the stairs who threw his arm out at her and shoved her back.

She was in danger. Not only with this one but with another behind her, the one from the train she'd seen on a phone just seconds before she disembarked. "Take that!" she shouted, swinging her bag and striking him in the face before pulling out her taser and aiming it at the one on the stairs. "And you, hold it!"

His expression quickly became fearful, and he spun on his heel, running back down the stairs. Thinking it was her weapon that scared him, Rachel laughed after him, putting it down briefly. "That's right," she called after him. "You better run unless you want a thousand bolts in your ass!"

That left only the other thug, but he was knocked cold to the ground, and crouching there on a railing - "Aah!" she shrieked, her finger itching and pushing the button to fire the bolts at the man in black; he was cloaked and cowled, midnight from head to foot. However, the wires didn't harm him or his uniform, just sparking until he tugged them off and tossed them aside before speaking.

His voice was low, gravelly, and no one she recognized. "Falcone sent them to kill you."

He knew who she was, and who she was after, but how? "Why?" she asked instead, surprised at how she managed to stay cool with this stranger in black.

Something fell at her feet the same time he answered, and she looked down. "You rattled his cage." So, she should have expected he would have found out about her eventually, and she knew he wasn't the only one whose "cage" she "rattled"... _Crane. Jonathan, you bastard! I'm not stupid to think otherwise. If I ever see your face next time at another hearing..._

But the pictures on the ground distracted her back to reality. In the picture on top, she saw the corrupt Judge Faden leading an attractive blonde babe into his car. Even though she knew what this was, the question already escaped her lips. "What's this?"

"Leverage," the man in black responded. "To get things moving."

"Who are you?" Looking deep into his eyes, they were surrounded entirely in black, as if coming out from the darkest pits of a cave in the lowest point of the earth. But for some reason, he didn't scare her.

"Someone like you," he responded. "Someone who'll rattle the cages."

~o~

 _The lady of Sherwood Forest._

Jonathan absently toyed with the trinket in between his forefinger and thumb while laying back on his sofa of his rundown apartment in the Narrows. The files were stacked in front of him, the files on Victor Zsasz and others of Falcone's thugs - there were only two more - and four others. But right now his mind was full of one snobbish Assistant District Attorney who left him and this apartment, whose old wedding ring was between his fingers.

This ring had reminded him, for some reason, of the legend between Robin Hood and Maid Marian, being as unique as the lady herself with the green amethyst - a rare treasure - in the center like a heart, symbolic of Marian in the woods, and the gold band was sided with two round purple amethysts circled with small twinkling diamonds. Rachel had loved the story when they were teenagers, even long before. It was her who had gotten him into the animated Disney features when they were younger. She was the first and only person to ever talk to him, and that was why Jonathan had allowed his despise of people around him to falter - because of her. They started out as friends at first before it became something more, the more time he spent studying with her when his father didn't need him, the more she introduced him to anything fun...and the more she discussed her loathing for how their beloved city was falling apart and the good people too scared to stand up to the bad.

He sighed and leaned back, suddenly disgusted. Here he was mulling over his past - and worried about her being killed by however many Falcone was sending out after her, to get rid of her once and for all. That would be the end of her sticking her little pig of a nose where it didn't belong.

 _ **That cute little piggy nose you've pinched since high school, Jonny boy...**_

He gritted his teeth behind sealed lips at the voice at the back of his head. Yes, her nose was smaller and a little rounder than most girls he'd seen...DAMN IT! She hated him for his "petty revenge" and "corrupt nature", he hated her for leaving him, so why was he still thinking of her this way?

 _ **Because you still love her, Jonny. Admit it, you never stopped loving her. You know how**_ **Swan Lake** _ **goes...**_

Swan Lake _is a fairytale, nothing more!_ he exploded in his mind. _That was another life that it brought us together, but no more. She learned about what I did with some of my students at the university and abandoned me when our vows should have kept us shackled. She's the reason I love my work more than anything else._

 _ **Well, then,**_ his alter responded, folding his arms across his chest. _ **How will you feel when you learn she's dead?**_

He couldn't answer that; he just didn't know what to say. Jonathan reached up to take his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. There were few times his alter ego - whom he decided to call Scarecrow, because of it being brought out by his father in early years since his mother's death - would bother him about these situations, but Rachel never knew he had a "voice inside his head". She would never understand that, either. She would have called him a monster, or worse, the scarecrow that everyone else had called him. _**She never would have,**_ Scarecrow _tsked_ , shaking his head. _**She's right, you know, and still is to this day, even if you two haven't uttered any nice words lately. Trust is important.**_

 _Says the one who likes everything rough._

 _ **Something you should have taken my offer up on years ago, make the bed even steamier. Now look where it also got you.**_

~o~

BAT SERVES UP CRIME BOSS

That was what the newspapers were now saying. Rachel could not wait to show Carl this, the morning newspaper she got at her apartment. After spritzing herself with her favorite perfume which was of woods and greens with a subtle tone of melon, she left her home with a big grin on her face and dropped it in front of the DA. Safely in her purse was also the leverage on Judge Faden's infidelity and gluttonous activities, which just about covered it for Faden. If Falcone wanted to kill him off for this, that wouldn't be her problem, and if not Falcone who would be placed behind bars, then anyone else amongst the mob.

"Good morning, Carl," she said as she flounced into his office. He looked up at her with a slight crook of a grin.

"Someone's in a good mood," he stated.

"Because Falcone has been arrested," she answered as she shrugged her coat off, holding the newspaper in one hand until she dropped it in front of her boss. "A man dressed in black took out his whole team in a bust ring before saving Falcone for last, leaving him for GCPD to take him in. No way to bury it now. We got the man we want, Carl."

Finch put his finger to his chin as he thought of the possibilities, happy as much as she was, but there left one man in their path to deal with. "Maybe so, but that still leaves Judge Faden."

Rachel reached into her bag after putting her coat down, pulling out the envelope of candid photographs. "No worries. Faden is all covered, thanks to me...and a very reliable source," she assured him, holding them all up for him to see. A brow twitched in amusement on his face.

"Very good, but what about this...bat they're babbling about?"

According to the papers and from the members of GCPD, Falcone's goons spoke in fear about being attacked by a 'giant bat', and the drug shipment they had brought in was confiscated by the rest of the police after their night assailant vanished into the night. "Even if these guys swear in court to being thrashed by a giant bat, we've got Falcone at the scene. Just look at this that the bat character gave us: drugs, prints, cargo manifest. He gave us _everything_." _Which means we have a solid case that no one can stop us,_ she thought, satisfied and pleased. _Who's rattling the cages now?_ If she didn't know any better, they were on the first road to cleaning up the city as they both promised the city they would. And Carl was sold, finally beaming at her.

"Okay. Let's do it."

 **So, in the past, I read various stories in which Dr. Crane has a split personality called Scarecrow, besides it being the name of his costumed persona. :) As for the styled italics to label who was speaking mentally to each other, the bold is Scarecrow while the regular italic is Jonathan. That was used in some of the other stories I read, so this is my favorite form, too.**


	3. Tastes of Terror

**Someone asked me if Rachel would end up with Harvey or not, and if anyone else is wondering, I can't promise a definite yes or not. You'll have to wait and see for yourself. In the meantime, enjoy some fresh familiar frights - and some nourishing new ones. ;D**

Chapter Three

Tastes of Terror

"Dr. Crane, thanks for coming. I'm sorry if it was a bother to call you away from your hospital on short notice."

"Not at all. Mr. Falcone...he cut his wrists?"

"Probably looking for the insanity plea. But, if anything should happen -"

"Of course, better safe than sorry."

He shook his head. He knew what Falcone was playing at. The man had been taken in by the so-called Bat Man who had also busted his ring - and that meant the drugs Crane had ordered in could very much be examined and any trace could include _him_ in on this - and thought he could attempt suicide to prove he was insane enough to avoid jail time like his thugs before him, thought he could get Jonathan Crane to get him off just because they were partners. _**Meh, we despise the man, Jonny. I'm right here whenever you need me.**_

 _I suppose I could use that. But only when I call for it._ He opened the door and went inside, trying not to roll his eyes at Carmine's ramblings.

"Yeah, Dr. Crane, I can't take it anymore; it's all too much. The walls are closing in, blah, blah, blah. And a couple of days of this food..."

"Let's cut to the chase, Carmine," Crane interrupted with a sigh as he set his suitcase down on the table before seating himself. "I have more than enough on my plate now as it is, with the latest shipment taken in and now you - the only pipeline to bringing them into this city - are here in jail like your goons before you, but then I get the word that you slice your own wrists - which I know too well was just to get me here." He tightened his jaw when he saw the man smile knowingly. "Now, what do you want from me now that you have me?"

Falcone laughed. "You know me too well, Doctor. What I want to know is what you're going to do to convince me to keep my mouth shut about what I know about you - what you really do in that basement of that asylum of yours with the drugs that come in every day."

Jonathan stiffened, but he wouldn't let his face show what he was thinking. _He knows,_ his mind whispered.

 _ **I told you that you'd need me. Let me out now so I can give him what he "wants",**_ Scarecrow begged, excited and eager to see Carmine Falcone, the great drug king collapse in screaming terror. But not just yet.

"I know," Falcone drawled, "that you don't want the cops taking a closer look at those drugs they seized. And I know about your experiments with the inmates of your nuthouse...tell me, have you done the same to my men I trusted you to get out of prison for me? I never go into business with anyone without finding out their dirty secrets. Yours, Doctor, are even dirtier than any other man I've worked with over the years. You think you own this town, but it's really me. _I've_ been bringing your stuff in for the last several months, so whatever _he's_ planning...I want in, if it's that enormous."

He thought he could use Crane's experiments and secret life against him so he could get into his and Ducard's business! Jonathan felt his lip curl and scoffed. "That will be impossible, because I know what he will say, and that would be to kill you. We do not include low-level criminals like yourself, Zsasz and the rest of your men. Men who don't show true honor."

 _ **Honor? Where did**_ **that** _ **come from?**_

 _At least I still have enough of it in myself to separate us from them. I'm not entirely low-morale as anyone else thinks - even Rachel._

"Oh, he can't get me in here, and neither can you. I have connections to prevent that, and you know that, doc. Just like I couldn't get that little ex-wife Assistant DA of yours. From what I heard, she's still up and running, and she might as well have won over me. Perhaps over you, too, and I wonder how she'd react if she knew what YOU were up to..."

That just did it. Inhaling sharply through his nose, Jonathan tried to block out how Rachel would indeed react if she found out who and what he truly was. He did learn that she was alive, assuming of course she couldn't have made it by herself - _**Perhaps the Bat Man helped her. I hear he's invincible.**_

 _Just like we are, and Falcone's not as he think he is. He's all yours._

 _ **Why thank you.**_

Scarecrow was in his place now, reaching up to take the glasses off and locking eyes with Falcone, seeing the confusion in his change of manner. **"Would you like to see my mask?"**

The silence and remaining gape was priceless. **"I use it in my experiments."** He reached over for his suitcase and unclasped it, finding the burlap mask; he'd made this after Rachel left him, after finding it in the downtown grocery store, remembering how he loved the feel of it and didn't care how rough it was. He loved everything rough. After turning on the mouthpiece that kept him oxygenated and susceptible to his own formula, he pulled it out and held it up. **"Though I'm probably not very frightening to a guy like you, but these crazies?"** He grinned as he slipped it over his head. **"They can't stand it."**

"You're _crazy_ ," Falcone spat. "When did the _nut_ take over the _nuthouse?_ "

 _ **That was the biggest mistake you ever made,**_ Scarecrow thought as he tapped the button and unleashed the toxin into Falcone's face. _**Never call the Master crazy.**_ He was screaming uncontrollably as his eyes beheld the masked face of fear himself. _**"They scream,"**_ Scarecrow shrilled happily, _**"and they cry, much as you're doing now!"**_

 _Look at him, he can't come between us again,_ Jonathan thought as he smiled with relish as he delighted in the sight of Carmine Falcone, a once-powerful drug lord, in a prison suit soon to be exchanged for an orange jumpsuit at Arkham, which he had to talk to the judge about - but that also meant getting the attention of Rachel Dawes.

 _But not if I'm more discreet._

~o~

 _Jonathan, you sneaky son of a bitch!_ she cursed as she stood in front of the glass window, looking at the squirming man in orange strapped to the table, burning with more fire than before. If that man didn't show up soon, she would have no choice but to get on an elevator or up the stairs - no matter which one, she would reach Crane's office and drag him down herself if he purposefully meant to keep her waiting.

And then, the longer she looked at the former mob boss, his eyes wide and darting back and forth at nothing in particular, she could clearly hear his word, and it was a repeat of the same one over and over:

 _"Scarecrow..."_

She'd frowned. Why did he say "scarecrow"? She'd have to ask Jonathan about that, wherever his sorry ass was. And for that, she would open her mouth and curse him out like he'd never been cursed by her before, for just partnering with a man who tried to have her, his ex-wife, _killed_.

When she first learned of the report given to the judge by Dr. Crane, it made her wonder how on Earth Carmine Falcone, a seemingly sane man, could have suffered so quick a breakdown just a few short days before his trial?

"Miss Dawes." About time! She whirled around and looked at him, glaring icily. He strolled her way after fixing his glasses into place, expression exhausted and displeased but otherwise calm. "This is most irregular, and I'd have thought you read the report I gave the judge -"

"That's exactly why I am here," Rachel interrupted, not wanting to hear anymore excuses he might have. "I have questions about it."

"Such as?" he returned coolly.

"Isn't it...convenient for a fifty-two-year-old man who has no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?" All of his medical and health related records were public so she had access, and there was nothing quite serious regarding mental, so once again, how did this happen?

Jonathan turned his attention to the window. "Well, as you see, Rachel, there's nothing quite timely about his symptoms. You never know when anyone will have, as you put it, a psychotic breakdown." _You're playing with me, and I've had enough._

"No, you're right, but how would you explain his repetition of this one word I keep hearing?" she demanded.

"Scarecrow," he answered. "A representation of fear, which is conformed by a patient suffering what Mr. Falcone is, but that's an example. Patients often focus their paranoia on an external tormentor, usually Jungian archetypes."

She felt like she was being sick to her stomach when the realization dawned on her. Falcone didn't just fall off the cliff just like that; something had to make him do it, and it wasn't by his own hand... "He's drugged," she said, locking eyes with her ex-husband, finding herself suddenly captured into place by those icy blues that had made her heart freeze a long time ago - _damn it, that was a long time ago! You two hate each other, he tried to have you killed to cover up whatever he's hiding, and now he put the perp you always wanted in his own nuthouse! You're in way too deep to start...!_

"Is something the matter, Rachel?" His voice had dropped to something smooth, resembling inducement... _temptation._ He was tempting her to say the slightest mistake that would automatically make him the winner once more. One of their many old battles. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"I'm afraid not; I was just making sense of what you told me," she said coolly, crossing her arms tighter. "Now, repeat."

He chuckled. "Psychopharmacology remains my primary field, a subject that you yourself never interested in, remember? Remember I tried to get you to join the class at the university? But, of course, science and chemicals wasn't your specialty."

She was fed up with his medical and psychological lingo. "Spare me the past lectures," she snapped. "You haven't changed since then; you still enjoy the reversal of what the world finds more important to study."

"Because they remain so blind to the true mysteries," he countered. "I, on the other hand, continue to respect the mind's power over the body, something I also remember trying to convince you of for as long as we were together. It's why I do what I do."

Those eyes said it all as his voice did, in one word: _insane._ "I do what I do," she retorted softly and deadly, "to keep thugs like Falcone behind bars, not therapy. And tonight, you are giving him over to us for further investigation." She lifted her chin up and made way for the elevator; he was rattled even more, and she wanted to grin at him for once. This wasn't over yet. "I want my own psychiatric consultant to have _full_ access to Falcone, including blood work. We'll get down to the bottom of what exactly you put him on." _Since you won't tell anyone about this. If we find any anomalies, then you're busted along with him._

"First thing tomorrow then." Oh, he wasn't getting away that easily.

"Tonight." That smug look was off his face; it felt so good to be in control. "Dr. Lehman at County General has already been paged by none other than me."

~o~

 _ **We have to stop her, Jonny. She's too close.**_

 _Says the one who insists I still have old feelings for her._

 _ **I still stand by it, but she needs to be slowed down, at least. Killing her is too easy. You know where I'm going.**_

 _All too well._ He reached into his jacket pocket for the keys, moving for the lock that was the basement's, clearing his throat. "As you wish." They said no more to each other, not even exhanged a look, but from the corner of his eye, he saw her rigid - too stiff and stoned. She wasn't trying to show it, but she was afraid - or should he say, anticipated? He wouldn't pretend to know she was wondering why they were going downstairs.

 _ **How would it be to finally learn her greatest fears? The one secret she kept from you all these years - as you kept ME from her?**_

He pursed his lips and kept his eyes ahead, however failing and allowing his head to partly swivel in her direction and watch her shift slightly from foot to foot, almost smiling. _Ours was different, and you know that. But now that you said it...I'd love to know what scares her. For all we know, no one might know she is already here._

On second thought... _I'd have to take her away from the hospital for the fun. Have her all to myself. No one can hear her screams or learn her dirtiest secrets but me and you._

Scarecrow giggled nonstop. _**Oooh, I like it!**_

He heard her nose make its sound as she took a smell of the air; a part of him wondered if it was his cologne which was still his favorite he used today since college. It was an exotic blend of spices, woods and amber. _**Wouldn't it be nice if you just took her and slammed her against the elevator walls, changing position -**_

 _Not NOW,_ Jonathan ground as the elevator came to a stop at the lowest level of Arkham Asylum that was the basement. "This way, please," he said, being the first out. "There's something I think you should see." Rachel said nothing, though she still had the feeling something was wrong, and her suspicions would be confirmed. Jonathan opened both doors to reveal the vast space, the iron railings in front of them keeping them above and superior to the orange-clad inmates at work below on various batches of his fear toxin, but she didn't know that...yet. "This is where we make the medicine. Perhaps you should have some...clear your head."

 _ **She's on the move, Jonny. This is your chance.**_

He inhaled and let it out through his nose as he heard Rachel's footsteps abandon - he knew she saw one of the inmates pouring a tank of toxin into the opened pipe that was the water supply - his side. His mask was folded in his pocket, and he was already reaching to pull it out.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn't get back upstairs without the keys which he possessed, so it was easy for him - Scarecrow - to catch up. The horror in her eyes upon seeing his burlap-covered face was priceless, as was the exhilaration in his veins when he threw his arm out at her, finger pulling the trigger and releasing the puffs of white into her face, sending her coughing and sinking to the floor, shrieking and moaning at the same time. He stood there, looking her down and watching her writhe.

And then she said, or rather, whimpered his name: "Jonathan..."

 _ **"Yes, tell me what you fear,"**_ Scarecrow rasped, tilting his head to the side, observing. She flinched away at the unrecognizable, horrid voice to her ears, making him smile beneath the burlap...but then her response took him aback altogether.

"I don't...want to...please don't..."

 _ **"Go on,"**_ he pressed, excited now, eager to use her fears to his advantage.

"Don't make me love you again."

He felt himself reel slightly backwards as the "confession" set itself in without further theorizing. So that was what she was afraid of... _she still loves me. She still feels it, but she won't admit it. What is it now, love and hate combined?_

 _ **Maybe she pretends to hate you so you don't know**_ , Scarecrow answered, sniggering. _**This is your chance to get the rest out of her. Go ahead, pick her up and take her out. You got the cure, don't you? The one Ra's still doesn't know of yet. Not like he asked you to ever make one for anyone.**_

He had at first considered a highly concentrated amount of his toxin so she would never recover, because she was the crusading Assistant DA and a danger to everything - but she was also his former wife and the woman he loved and hated at the same time. Perhaps that would change once he took her far away from this place. He didn't look at his incoming henchmen. "Boss, do you want her brought in?" one of them asked. He shook his head and marched over to where Rachel's slumped figure was; she didn't fight him anymore as she slipped away into drugged unconsciousness, a common after effect from the intensity of the hallucination.

"I got this one."

 **So, this story is going in the direction of AU with parts of events from Begins and TDK to come, without giving spoilers away. :) Jonathan admits - if not all the way until the next chapter - that he still loves Rachel and just learned she does, too, even if she was forced to say it. Let's see what he has planned with her now. ;)**

 **In "Promises and Threats", Jonathan still has moral in him to save her life and take her away himself, and in "On the Brink of Control", he discovers that she harbors a secret, unbidden lust for him that he later uses to his advantage.**


	4. Giving into the Doctor's Demands

**Jonathan's life story is based from the show Gotham. Rachel knew that he and his father had a difficult life but never knew the WHOLE story. Over the course, she will. :)**

Chapter Four

Giving into the Doctor's Demands

He felt like if he didn't hurry, he would lose Rachel definitely. He slipped into the elevator and pulled his mask off, fishing the keys out again and putting them into the lock again, then pushed the button for the first floor. Someone would see them if they took the front door, and he had to get her through a back alleyway so they could sneak to his car in the lot.

 _ **Relax, you'll give her the antidote soon.**_

 _She'll be the first. None of the patients before Falcone ever got it, not that they are suitable for release back on the streets anyway. At least Rachel was right about them being off the streets; I wish she understood that._

 _ **Oh, she will, soon. We'll make her see it in no time.**_

 _But not tonight. Tonight is just me having her all to myself._

Scarecrow backpedaled. _**Whoa, whoa, what do you mean "all to yourself"? I thought it was you AND me.**_

Jonathan smiled as he picked Rachel up and carried her in his arms; it brought him back to their wedding day after they exchanged their vows and he carried her in front of all their friends, coworkers and her small family. Her laughter, her smile...made him feel like a man that he thought he would never become. He wasn't one to ask himself what happened then, but he knew what it was. It was him. He had been the cause of it, but he was dedicating his life to the study of the brain and its darkest canals, but she didn't understand that. She didn't understand he was working for a cause that he was looked down on.

His father had been the one to begin the first chapter of the story of his life. His father who had been the cause. After the death of his mother when he was eight, in a house fire that Gerald Crane could not save her from, resulting in his worst fears come alive and that was failure. Young Jonathan remembered how his own father went mad after that, seeking to cure his own fear, resulting in harvesting of adrenal glands for his experiments - but even that was something Jonathan never took to his own as an adult - as the main compound factor. Gerald's victims had been killed in the end, a primal desire Jonathan had resisted from time to time.

Everything came to an end when Jonathan was eighteen, when his father was caught by the police and shot, but he had told them that he didn't know anything about what his father was up to; Gerald had experimented on his own son when he was sixteen, the memory of Scarecrow coming for the first time being too terrifying to imagine...but that came out good when it came to the school bullies who taunted him for his clothes and frame, and lifestyle. His father had been the high school's biology teacher, which was another addition to the beatings. It had all begun since the death of Karen Crane.

 _ **Can we stop with the past now and think about the present, Jonny? Your girl's in need of help.**_

"Hold on, Rachel," he said as he noticed how the shaking began to subside, but it was still there. Her eyes were closed now, and she was still breathing, shallow as it was. She hadn't screamed again - or should he say, not at all since she fell in the elevator, which slightly angered him. "Don't you dare leave me now."

He had finally burst through the door so the lot was before them, and his black Hyundai was waiting for them. He brought her over and let his hand go of her to open the right door in the back, setting her down in there and then closing the door to run around and jump into the driver's seat. _Just a little longer..._

She was still unconscious but whimpering by the time they finally arrived at his apartment. He carried her all the way up three flights of stairs without his legs running out of energy, unlocking his door and kicking it open to show his home in the Narrows. With no time to lose, he marched for his bedroom and gently laid the limp Assistant DA on the elegant comforter, and stared down at her.

 _ **You know, vulnerability is not a bad look for her.**_

 _Indeed._ He looked her over, taking in her wonderful figure he remembered, few nights seeing it all as it was in two years of being tied to her, and feeling a tinge in the pit of his stomach. Just looking at her, on his bed, in her current state made him feel like he was burning again with power - the same power he had over those he studied in the basement, and over Falcone. Shaking it off, Jonathan quickly left Rachel on his bed to head to his desk to pull out a syringe filled with the antidote to counteract the toxin. Kneeling down, he stuck the needle into her forearm and injected the clear liquid.

 _ **So, what now?**_ his alter ego asked.

Jonathan ignored him and rose to his feet. He gave the unconscious, now stable girl a look over again. There was a part of him that wanted to just go ahead and have his way with her this way; however, the other part insisted on leaving her alone until she was awake. He wasn't a rapist.

 _ **How about this, Jonathan? Why don't we just prepare her for when she wakes?**_ Scarecrow suggested.

The suggestion caught him off-guard. _What?_

 _ **Why not? You obviously brought her here for a reason. And if you want my opinion, dress her up for the occasion, get yourself ready, and then set this place up for her stay here. She'll learn to understand you again, and she won't be able to leave you again.**_

Jonathan was at a loss for words. He continued to stare down at Rachel's inert form, and his conscience took over. This didn't feel right, violating her privacy while she was unconscious; they used to be married, and that warranted a conversation if she woke anytime soon. _**Oh, please, spare the morale lecture, Jonathan. Go ahead. Take something off her,**_ his other half urged.

Jonathan sighed heavily. He had to might as well go ahead and give in.

He reached out and gently raised her arms over her head so it'd be easy for him to slip off that purple sweater that hugged her slender body. He was then greeted by the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her round, supple breasts were revealed to him, the pert, pale rosy buds with the matching areolas erected, much to his surprise. _Well, well, well,_ he thought, pleased. _Seems like she can't keep it in._

He wasted no time in quickly pulling the skirt down and yanking it off from around her ankles. _**Woo hoo,**_ Scarecrow whistled. _**Lookie here; your little housewife is wearing a black G-string. This is the highlight of the night.**_

Ex- _housewife - scratch off her being always in the kitchen._ Jonathan ignored his taunting other half and continued to stare at Rachel's half-nude body. He was beginning to feel the blood rush to his lower anatomy. He bit back a groan. No woman had ever made his body react this way other than her. No third part to make him second-guess afterwards.

However, he could not resist reaching out with one hand…and grasping her right breast, fondling it gently.

This time he really groaned, feeling the soft, squishing flesh beneath his palm, the nipple pressing against him like a rose bud getting ready to bloom. He felt himself twitch in the nether regions of his pants. God, he couldn't deny it any longer that he wanted her.

His darker self, not Scarecrow's doing, began to control the rest of his body's desires.

 _You have to want me in return, Rachel. Whether the word love is used tonight or not, we are still drawn together like a magnetic field. I'll never stop until I get you to say those words to me - and then you're mine again like you used to be._

~o~

 _ **"You still love me. You don't hate me as you say you do."**_

 _She thrashed beneath those smooth hands roaming over her body. She was naked, feeling violated even though he hadn't gone further than the use of his hands. She lay on a cold slab, her eyes squeezed shut and unable to open, unable to look up and see her tormentor. "No," she ground out, gritting her teeth together. "I HATE you. I stopped loving you a long time ago."_

 _The voice - his smooth, mellow accent mingled with a diabolical hiss she didn't know - leered in her senses._ _ **"You're lying, and you don't hide it well. Your mind has been opened by my hand, and your body says it all."**_ _His fingers curled inward, but she no longer felt smooth nails, but jagged lines at the tips of his fingers and brought the vibrations through her nerves; she was unable to stop the whimper that escaped._ _ **"Yes, that's it. I want to know more, feel more - and for you to do the same."**_

 _She shook her head as she tried to break free from him, but he held her down, his hands trapping her wrists and slamming them on either side of her head. His body slid between hers, naked as she was...but his felt like a rough network of stitchery in all sorts of places, hardly even human. "No, don't make me do this. I don't want this anymore; this isn't right."_

 _ **"Right and wrong does not apply; have you ever ONCE considered it was in-between, or nothing at all? That you should not deny what's good for you?"**_ _She felt his teeth against her throat, biting and bruising and kissing all in one that the feeling made her cry out, and one of his hands grasping her side and working up in a pattern until it came to grasp her breast._ _ **"I never gave you this kind of treatment before, have I? Don't refuse to answer me, or I'll force you."**_

 _"You wouldn't dare -!" But she was helpless to fight him; he growled and laughed in one, pinching her nipple and making her sob. He seemed to enjoy her cries of despair; he had showed her his dark side she'd seen in his eyes that had threatened to escape during their soft nights in bed...and guiltily, this felt even better than they did._

 _ **"Answer me."**_

 _"No, you didn't," she relented, hating herself._

 _He laughed again, leaning down and bringing his mouth to her breast, and her screams were louder and painful to her ears but music to his._

~o~

Darkness had her under its domain, its cold and unfeeling grasp holding her as it allowed her deepest fear and _longing_ to come forth from the deepest pit of her mind. It was like she _felt_ his body on top of hers - only at the same time, it wasn't him, but the dark side that she was beginning to meet - felt him kiss and ravish her body with his tantalizing and forbidden touch...it felt wrong and so wonderful at the same time because it made her realize she MISSED his touches and kisses...

 _NO! He drugged you and raped your privacy! He's not the man you fell in love with -!_

Her body and her mind were both fighting against each other, because when Rachel slowly came to, she opened her eyes to find herself staring at a dim but warm gold ceiling, the faint lights of candles around her. She was lying on a beautiful bed with a blue-and-beige jacquard comforter. Where was she?

Rachel sat up with a gasp, seeing that her purple sweater, black skirt and boots were replaced with a scandalous black lace garter and camisole set. The sides and the undergarment covering the top of her thighs was sheer, revealing skin and the most valuable part of her body - it was her _old lingerie set._

Jonathan! He'd not only drugged her, but he redressed her in the old set she'd worn on... _their wedding night!_

 _What is this, a new sick game?!_

She was at his apartment. The room wasn't all that furnished, save for shelves filled with books and music pieces; he'd made himself at home as a bachelor ever since she packed her bags and brought up the divorce papers. And the mahogany wood nightstand beside her had a vase filled with red and pink oriental lilies, one of her favorites. She wanted to sneer that he was dreaming if he thought he could charm her with her favorite flowers, but - _he remembered._

Her mind was shouting at her that she was out of her mind, having wild hallucionations about her ex-husband, a psychopath now that she could call him that - or was it sociopath? A psychopath functioned well with society and took years of planning what they wronged against others. And a sociopath...

 _Doesn't work well with others, lives on the down low, and snaps whenever they want._

She curled upwards and into herself, wrapping her arms around her head, trying to block out the memory of her deranged ex-husband ravishing her in a way he never did before, which had felt even better than two years of rush and tenderness.

 _Damn it, girl, you know who - WHAT - he really is, so why are you even thinking about him like this? You should get out of here before he...!_

"Aw, come now, no need to cry."

She jumped and slid back further into the bed until her back hit the wall at the shadowed figure in the doorway leading into this room, despite the barely bright light of the candles. "Jonathan, you sneaky son of a bitch!" she yelled, trapped but strong as stone. "You - you poisoned me! You drugged me and kidnapped me!"

His lean form was hidden in the shadows of the doorway, but his face had submerged, showing that arrogant smirk of his. "Because you got too close, Rachel. I did what I had to do."

"So, you drug me and redress me?!" She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs to cover herself up, nevermind this piece of the past was something familiar between them. "Why did you even bring me here?"

"If I didn't, you'd have lost your mind by now because of me. I do apologize for that - would this make up for it?" With that, he stepped in and showed that he was completely naked. She gasped and quickly turned her face away, closing her eyes. He _tsked_ repeatedly at this, and not long later, a weight shifted the bed, and he was in front of her. "You don't like this? I recall you used to."

"That was before I found out who you were!" she spat, swinging her hand out and striking him in the face when she felt his hand touch her cheek. He reeled back, snarling and rubbing his face. "Don't touch me!"

"That wasn't nice."

"That's the point!"

His hands seized her wrists and pulled her towards him, onto her knees, stronger than she was, and his mouth was on hers, forcing her to submit to him now that he had her, the two of them alone together, and she was helpless. Rachel hissed and sighed against him, fruitlessly trying to pull her hands free, but he pinned them to her sides and rubbed his body against hers, bare skin against black lace which felt strange and dangerously arousing at the same time. Feeling this, Jonathan purred and rumbled against her mouth, satisfied that she stopped struggling. He was the master here, which she hated him for but had to endure whether she liked it or not.

Jonathan ended the kiss then. "Are we going to be good now, if you don't want anything...unpleasant to happen?" She nodded, and he smirked. "Good." He released her hands then, but she couldn't move. "What's the matter, afraid of what would happen with what you want to do next?"

She glared into his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you seem to like this new form no matter your denial. I made the mistake a long time ago of never once asking you if you wished to experiment. I was too busy to even consider the possibility."

"You were so busy instilling fear in people who looked up to you - now you took the final step with me, your wife," she hissed, and instantly realized her mistake when she did not say ex in the word.

"You didn't say ex," he noted. "That was a first. It makes me think you're starting to forgive me."

She gasped and looked into his piercing eyes. "No, I'll never -!" He cut her off and put his hand over her mouth, shushing her.

"Yes, you are. You didn't understand me then, and you have to now. You didn't see the purpose of my experiments, and I see you still don't. It's all to understand the most powerful of human emotions, from the deepest caverns of the subconscious...like with you." His hands were grasping her thighs, holding her into place, his fingernails digging into her skin enough to make her cry out a little, and her hands flew to his shoulders to grasp for dear life. Jonathan leaned forward and was kissing and licking the tops of her breasts, but she couldn't pull away. "It was what my father began, although when I lost my mother, it was his worst fear of failure coming to life. He went off to cure himself of it, even used me as his guinea pig when there were times he couldn't find a test subject - and that was the starting point of my destination."

Rachel fell back onto the bed, his hands releasing her. The shocking truth revealed beyond what she knew about Jonathan's mother dying when he was a boy, long before he met Rachel, his strange father who taught the biology class they shared for three years...Gerald Crane was the crazy one. He'd started everything, testing his own child, but what differed between Dr. Crane and his son?

Jonathan saw her face and knew what she was thinking. "I'm afraid I don't have the time to give you all of the details about my father's responsibility for my 'behavior'."

She scowled at him. She wanted to spit that his father was responsible for this, but it was also Jonathan's choice to take the other way opposite Gerald Crane in studying fear instead of curing it. In her experience, fear was the paralysis that kept you from moving forward, something the criminals instilled in the innocent every day. To know head physician of Arkham Asylum, Jonathan Crane, was doing that in his patients - and criminally insane ones, at that - was worse because it was not approved publicly, conducted in secret. _Illegal._

"Well, quiet. That's another first from you tonight, which has thus far helped me understand you in return...my _love_."

He was leaning over her now, his nude form over hers, hand hiking up her smooth thigh and latching onto the strap of her garter. Something in her snapped. How DARE he call her "love"? He hadn't called her that since - "Rachel, it would be easier if you stopped fighting me; you're here in _my_ apartment - the apartment _we_ used to share before you abandoned me out of fear and revolt - and you have nowhere to run, which means I have all the strings to pull to make you understand. My fear toxin didn't only expose you to your greatest fear from your intelligent little mind, it made you confess the most important thing in the world. You _love_ me. You never stopped loving me. You were all that mattered to me, you were always there with me even when my father warped my life, promised that you would never leave me no matter what I did...but you broke your word, Rachel. I'm not the only one who ruined our marriage."

She whimpered when his hand abandoned her thigh and went higher, stroking her through the gauzy underwear which was becoming moist with herself. "You hated me controlling you, but I had reason to. That is in my nature, simple as that. I want to be the one to walk you through it, to show you the world is not simply two-sided as you thought it was, and I want to make up for the lost times by giving you more than you had before...even if that means taking us both far from Gotham as possible. Away from the filth you are fighting an outkill battle with, and me away from the hypocrites who stunted me."

Her inner muscles clenched even though he didn't slip a finger inside; she leaned back against the surface of the bed and moaned when he massaged her playfully and skillfully. "So, what will it be, Rachel? You accept my offer and take me back so we can be together the way we were before...or do you want me to make you another test subject in Arkham's basement?"

 _No, no - no, I don't want you again! You took my heart and shattered it into millions of pieces! You took everything from me and gave me nothing back; I won't let you -!_ Jonathan Crane was corrupt, amoral, and he was the thorn in her side. He was getting his revenge against her - but they were equal on the heartbreak level. His voice in her ear was making it worse, building her arousal to flames.

"Give in, Rachel. I have you in the palm of my hand. Lose yourself to me now."

The single word escaped her mouth against her control.

 _"Yes..."_

~o~

 _ **Bingo! You got her!**_

"Say it again," Jonathan said, grinning with triumph, increasing the strokes with his notorious precision. _Yes, notorious. I'm known for it._

"Yes." Her voice was strained with conflict. She was here in his bed, him atop her, and he was dominating her every will. She had surrendered to him with all her might broken down. She might no longer be thinking straight, for all he knew, because of his hand stroking her inner parts, igniting her core. "Jonathan...don't stop."

"What else do you want me to do, my little flower?"

"Make me yours...again. But don't be slow and gentle, make me wait. Do it now, do it rough." Suddenly, her hands seized him by his hair, tugging firmly and holding him in place. Her eyes were suddenly fierce, and he thrilled in it; he'd made her into a wild cat in just one touch. "Get right on it now, you sadistic son of a bitch. You're doing this to me, so be a man and finish your responsibility."

Her slight insult to his pride made Jonathan growl and lean down to bite her on the neck enough to bruise and make her cry out. "Oh, you vicious little she-devil, you see what you're doing to me in return?" He lifted his body up a little and looked down to show her his obvious desire. She gasped. "Yes, this is what you haven't seen and felt in a long time - same as I. I want you as much as you want me."

She elevated herself up so she pressed against him, giving him the chance to reach behind and unto the laces of her corset as he had on their wedding night and a few times after she wore this thing - when she'd packed, she'd somehow forgotten about this that Jonathan could not throw it out, for it still smelled and felt of her, and was pleased it still fit her after all this time - and pulled the top down to expose her creamy breasts. Sitting up, he pulled the garment down to show the rest of her abdomen and leaving her in the G-string he'd left but attached with the garter; that was gone, too, exposing her female anatomy completely. He'd felt how hot and molten she was; she wanted him so much it was hurting now.

Without further a due, he thrusted into her.

She howled in both pain and pleasure, sure to penetrate the walls and reach any neighbors, but neither of them cared. It was finally happening; Jonathan groaned as he was sheathed inside her again for the first time in a long time. Rachel... _his_ Rachel...was his all over again. After tonight would be more to come; this was only the first step of bringing her into his world. She'd seen enough at Arkham, she'd tasted his creation and experienced what he devoted and studied, and his bed was the end of the first step. He savagely pounded into her at her insistence, the controlled and proper Assistant District Attorney gone and replaced with a fierce feline, snarling and clawing at his shoulders and back, scratching enough to leave marks and draw blood. Jonathan - and Scarecrow - hissed with the same sensations she did, pain and pleasure combined.

He arched his head backwards as he hit that sensitive spot. "Jonathan, right there!"

"As you...wish!" He continued to hit that spot and speed up her incoherent cries, but his own were stifled deep in his own throat, his hands grasping her hips as he rode her, flesh smacking against flesh, the little blood streaks leaking down his back in slivers and his body throbbing, but owning her body once again. This...this was how it should have been during their marriage, and it should have lasted. Should never have ended after just two years.

No matter. He would make up for that, and perhaps they would get married again someday soon.

Her legs were spead on either side of him, not bothering to wrap around and hold him close, but losing their control and opening herself more to him, giving him more access. Jonathan groaned when he looked down at the erotic sight in front of him: Rachel's beautiful body was glimmering with sweat, her breasts heaving up and down with each pound and each breath she took, just taking her by force and without a worry. She gave herself willingly after so many resists; her muscles contracted around him, her essence covering him and waiting for him to come off the cliff...

And then it happened, exploding like a volcanic eruption. Jonathan threw his head back and roared like a beast, without Scarecrow's help, as he felt himself erupt inside her, growling as he emptied himself to the last drop. _Oh, God, that was..._ He couldn't think straight, and collapsed on top of her, panting heavily and burying his face into her neck, her hair damp as her skin was, her heartbeat as erratic as his was. How delicious - and how perfect.

"Jonathan," was all she could say. He couldn't bring himself to raise his head just yet, still trying to catch his breath. "Thank you."

She was thanking him. Thanking him for what? He never expected her to say those words, because they were not strangers. They were just getting to know each other again, but there was no need for anymore discussion, not tonight -

And then it was all interrupted, against both of their wills, for the door was kicked open and in swarmed a SWAT unit who filled their sanctuary and invaded the bedroom right away. Both he and his lover were still unclothed and sweating when he was yanked away from her, dragged across the floor and out of his home...and away from _her._

 **Much thanks to the no longer present "On the Brink of Control" for the rough but passionate sex between these two characters. I remember being on fire just reading that, how she gave in to his "demands" when he's the master here, pulling the strings and having her in his grasp, making her lose control so easily - but also being loving and caring in his own way. That's sexy. Creepy, twisted, but sexy. ;)**

 **But sadly it was tragically cut short. :( Unfortunately, it seems that since because the Batman had followed Rachel, he hadn't found what happened to her in the basement, but I think he tipped off Gordon who had the SWAT find Dr. Crane's home. "Promises and Threats" hit a similar mark after Jonathan took Rachel back home to save her, but unlike here, nothing inappropriate happened. This story has SOME similarities, but not the same, so if slytherin-until-I-die sees this, I thought you should know.**

 **Everything is fast and furious, but I'm happy with the pace. :)**


	5. A Year and a Half Later

**Reviews are still appreciated, so if anyone has anything to say about a chapter, don't be shy. :) I won't keep saying this over the course of the story; just keep it in mind.**

 **In the meantime, BB has become AU, and so will TDK, so things will be a little warped. I'm trying to be as original as possible while staying true to the movies. In addition, Katie Holmes is Rachel for the rest of the journey. I mean, I love Maggie Gyllenhaal, but Katie is perfect for Cillian's Jonathan.**

Chapter Five

A Year and a Half Later

She remembered it like it was yesterday. She remembered being in tears and crying to herself as she watched her former husband and lover ripped from her as though he was nothing more than her rapist. Which was what they called him the moment they brought her in for questioning, after giving her some new clothes. No one believed her story that it was willing, despite the discovery in the basement what his activities were, finding out that he had been poisoning the water supply and that he _had_ been working with Falcone, that he'd driven the mob boss insane himself to cover his tracks up - and a myriad of other crimes in terms of violating the Hippocratic Oath.

What was worse: they thought Rachel had Stockholm Syndrome. They thought because he had poisoned her himself and took her away from the asylum for himself - despite their divorce settlements and records of their past - and raped her to keep her quiet about her detective work, little as it was. She hated them for this, hated them for betraying her, these people she worked alongside with for so long...it made her wonder if Jonathan _was_ right.

The Batman came to her home that same night, which was the following night after she had been questioned by the police and a psychiatrist she didn't even need, because he trusted her with what was going to happen to the Narrows, starting there. He'd given her more of an antidote that he'd had help formulating on his own; she was to give it to Jim Gordon and him alone...and she didn't know why until when it actually happened.

Fear Night.

The night hell broke loose when Jonathan's toxin was freed from the sewers and into the air, the screams of the doomed splitting the senses. She'd made the right decision being there to see it all happen, see that man in black and his followers turn on the microwave emitter she recognized had belonged to Wayne Enterprises and had been stolen - the reason why she found out Carl had been murdered. _Because he'd uncovered it, got too close_.

And Bruce... _he's the Batman. The man the GCPD is after for breaking the laws to help us._

The man she'd known since she was a child had changed after all, and for that, as much as she was proud that he was better than he'd been then, become a better man but was still wrestling with his demons, she couldn't be there as much as she'd wanted to upon learning he'd return; that had been before she found out who he was on that night. She had promised she'd wait for him until the day that came when he was finished.

But there had been another man still on her mind as she breathed those words to him.

Jonathan had been taken to Arkham Asylum, placed in as a patient and not a doctor. His whole life - his future and his career he'd placed his passion in - was taken away from him. Now she could say that she hated herself for being involved in it; she'd despised him but never wanted him to fall that far. But it was too late. She'd heard he had been among the high-risk patients freed - but he was also one of those who hadn't been recovered. He had been on the move for a year that went by, and in the meantime, she'd had a new man in her life...and he'd even asked her to marry him.

Harvey Dent was the new, passionate District Attorney, and with him, everything was more serious than it had been with Carl; he was everything Gotham needed, everything she deserved for herself. He'd showed her that ring at Bruce's fundraiser for him, that breathtaking silverwork surrounding three blazing diamonds, but it felt overwhelming, yet she couldn't tell Harvey that. Nor could she tell him that she'd loved Bruce, or about Jonathan who had been taken from her. He knew about her former marriage and couldn't believe she'd once been married to a _monster._

Rachel wanted to say again that Jonathan wasn't a monster; he was tricked by another man named Ra's al Ghul, something Bruce told her himself, saying Crane wasn't a member of the League of Shadows he had trained under before he found out their true purpose for Gotham, that Dr. Crane thought al Ghul's intentions were to hold the city for ransom. _Greedy motive, but not evil. He needed more money for his research, nothing more. He never wanted to destroy Gotham._

For the last year, things were slowly improving ever since Harvey Dent was elected into office and Batman was helping him and Lt. Gordon clean the streets. By that time, she'd learned of Jonathan's capture after a drug deal with the Chechen, one of the latest biggest crime lords, then returned to Arkham. Rachel had learned he was too "insane " to be sent to Blackgate, so Arkham rehabilitation was for him. Blackgate was where he would have spent the rest of his life without hopes of being released, so in a small way, she was glad Arkham was the better choice.

If only she was there to see how he was being treated right now.

Not only that, the Joker came along. The clown who ripped off the mob before going bigger, who nearly killed her and succeeded in doing so to Harvey, having them both kidnapped by corrupt cops in Gordon's unit and placed in separate warehouses, wired to gasoline drums. Batman had gotten her out, but before Jim and his men could get to Harvey, the bomb went off.

It had been six months since the Joker was taken into Arkham, and a year and a half since Fear Night. The new director of Arkham Asylum was the one who taught her and Jonathan's shared psychology class at GSU, Dr. Jeremiah Arkham, whose family had built the asylum before either of them was even born and had managed to get it back once the corrupt Dr. Crane was disposed of. But none of Rachel's own problems stopped there.

Ever since Harvey's death and the clown's incarceration, she'd been going to therapy because it had been required since the events left her in a somewhat depression. Of course she was depressed, but if only anyone knew the true depth. She wasn't liking therapy in the slightest, except for her always chipper therapist...

"Rachel, you okay?" Dr. Harleen Quinzelle asked, leaning forward in her desk chair, studying the distracted, poised woman in the chair before her. The ADA was in a striped black-and-white blazer over a white tank top, finished with a black skirt and black heeled boots; her legs were crossed, arms folded across her chest, head turned to her left with a blank look on her face as though deep in thought.

Rachel shook her head. _Did I miss something?_ she wondered. She had been reflecting back on the past for a while now that she didn't know what time it was now. "What, Harleen?" she asked tiredly.

"You looked like you were off someplace else," the young therapist said, laughing. "I was about to say…"

"I was just thinking," Rachel rushed.

"About Harvey." It wasn't a question.

Rachel's answer wasn't a lie. "Mm-hmm."

"What about your man before him?"

Rachel mentally groaned. It was known to nearly everyone about her tryst with the insane former doctor. But Harleen was very understanding, unlike anyone else. But Bruce understood her feelings, too. _Sort of, anyway._ She snorted.

"I do think of him, too," she said to Harleen. "Every often. But more than Harvey. I know I should feel ashamed of myself for sleeping with a corrupt, immoral man, but something happened that night between us that no one else would understand. He…opened something in me that I never thought I had before. Made me realize there is more to life than the way I was taught. Not everything is black and white." Rachel shook her head. "Maybe I am going crazy," she murmured aloud, half to Harleen, who scoffed and shook her head.

"No, Rachel, I don't think you are. In fact, 'crazy' isn't a word I'd use to call you." Harleen leaned forward, pen clicking in her hand. "You know what else I think? I think you're in _love_ with Dr. Crane."

 _I'm surprised she hasn't called him Mr. Crane like everyone else in this God-awful place does,_ Rachel thought in disgust. She blinked. _Wait, did she say love? He'd told me he did, but I never answered him. I'd spent most of my time hating him because of everything he was doing, and the fact he stuck in and declared my perps insane and unfit for jail; I now realize this place is no better than jail. His father was responsible for everything, but Jonathan also chose the path he walked. I had never longed for the touch of any other man like Harvey or Bruce...and Jonathan showed me after the lost times._

"Before our…reconnection," she said to Harleen, for lack of a better word, "when he sprayed me with his fear toxin, he uncovered my deepest fear."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "What was it?" she asked curiously.

"I was afraid of being with him," Rachel confessed. "We were married long before, high school sweethearts, but it didn't work out. Losing control and giving myself to him so he could control me again. Fear was his specialty. He made me face that fear that night, and now I am no longer afraid. Every night and day now, I wish I could see him again…just this once." Tears were now forming in her eyes. "But I don't even know if I can, or if it's even possible. How can a relationship with a criminal work, given that he was accused of kidnapping and raping me? That I had Stockholm Syndrome?"

"And the new DA? I'm told she's a bitch on wheels and hell-bent on keeping the criminals - like the Joker and your Scarecrow - off the streets."

Rachel laughed. _Bad mouth, but a good point_. "Yeah, she is. Janet Van Dorn is no better than Harvey ever was. What she does is tyrannical. She's an idealist who treats everyone around her horribly. She thinks she's better than everyone else just because she was born out of a family of lawyers."

"I know, right?" Harleen laughed. "Makes me wonder who spit in her beef stew."

Both women squealed with laughter at the joke. _God, this day has just gotten better_.

When they both calmed down, Harleen cleared her throat. "You know, Rachel, I have an idea. If you want to see your Scarecrow again, why don't you just waltz right on into the maximum security ward with the claim of being the ADA and making sure he is on his best behavior. Personally," she added with a wink.

Rachel gasped, stunned that her therapist would suggest such a thing. She was thrilled at the suggestion, elated to see her lover again…but then it would rouse suspicion and bring back the past among the staff. "But what if people mention…?" She trailed off, knowing that Harleen knew what she was talking about.

But the girl scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, let them talk. Or better yet, open your mouth that you are the ADA and have power next to the DA to take them to court for false gossip." Harleen then looked up at the clock. "Oh, my goodness! I have my next patient coming in five minutes. We've been going for a while, haven't we?"

Rachel looked up at the clock. Three in the afternoon. They'd been talking for two hours. "You're right," she said sheepishly, arising from her seat. "Well, thanks again, Harleen. I guess I'll see you again in a while?"

"Will do, Rach. And you'd better take my advice on your straw man!"

Rachel snorted as she left Harleen Quinzelle's office, purse in hand as she walked down the hall, ignoring the few stares from the staff and patients around her, as well as the cat whistles from some of the male patients.

She thought back to what Harleen suggested. _She's right,_ she confessed to herself _. I want to see him. Be strong and go to the maximum ward. Don't listen to the scandalous fools around you._ Rachel found the elevator and headed to it. She pressed the _Up_ button to take her to the top level. To where the most dangerous inmates, like the Joker - Harvey's murderer - were located.

To where _he_ was located.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Here she was. Rachel walked out of the lift and looked around her. This part of the asylum was no better than downstairs, with the flickering overhead lights and the secured doors to the cells holding the most dangerous criminals.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" She tried her hardest to not jump at the sight of the large man in a security uniform. "The beautiful Assistant DA makes a visit here in the high-risk ward? Even when she is known for a scandal with a certain straw boy famous for tossing a fear poison in people's faces?"

Rachel fumed as she looked up into the face of Arkham's new chief of security, hand gripping her purse, prepared to grab her taser if he tried to make a move on her. He was certainly three times her size and could outmatch her easily. Around her, some of the inmates cowered away with fear visible on their faces. A handful of them who were accompanied by their doctors were supported.

"The reason I am here is personally from the DA's office, Mr. Bolton."

Lyle Bolton's beady black eyes gave her slim body a look-over, which made her want to _definitely_ pull out her taser at him. Rachel folded her arms across her chest and glowered up at him. "Excuse me, my face is up here."

He smirked, much more infuriating than Jonathan had been whenever they butted heads in the past. "A pretty one, too, Miss Dawes. Not one I see everyday."

The fire in her flared with her temper. _Cool down, girl._ "Mr. Bolton, I don't know why you are looking at me like some fresh piece of meat on display, but I'm going to ask you this nicely: I would appreciate it if you would kindly step aside so I can visit one of the inmates at the request of the DA to make sure he's been on his best behavior."

One of Bolton's brows rose. "And which inmate would that be?"

Rachel growled mentally in frustration. This man fat as a hog was getting under her skin much worse than Jonathan ever did. "Is that any of your business?" she asked, refusing to show that he was ruffling her feathers.

"It is since I am the chief of security," Bolton drawled, clearly enjoying the fact that he was not intimidated by the young ADA. "I possess power over the scum that reside behind these locked doors. I used...exceptional methods to keep them in line." Rachel felt her lip curl. There was not something right in the way he said that.

"And I hold the authority in the DA's office, so that gives me _greater_ power over you," she retorted. "And by the looks of these patients around me..." She nodded at the terrified prisoners behind their cell doors, and the ones not in who were cowering behind their guards and doctors. "...maybe you're doing _too_ good a job keeping them in check."

Those devilish eyes narrowed. "Are you questioning my methods, Miss Dawes?" How could his silky smooth voice, deeper than Jonathan's own, be so flawlessly disturbing? It made her shudder inside.

"No," she said softly and sternly, "but if I find out that if you're taking violence to the extreme on these people three times smaller than you, then I'll take you to court. I promise you that." _Why and what are you getting yourself into?_ her mind asked her, but she ignored it.

"Are you threatening me?"

She decided she'd had enough. She reached into her purse and pulled her taser out, shoving it into his stomach, just above his private area. Bolton groaned slightly and leaned forward, eyes shooting daggers at her. "That was not a request, Mr. Bolton," she snarled. "If I so much as find out that the fact you are beyond extremes in your methods, you'll answer to this little guy in your scrotum."

 _What are you doing?! You're holding a taser to a guy's spot, even if he is head of this asylum's security. You'll get in trouble._ She pulled her defense weapon away and tucked it back into her purse. "Now, excuse me and good day, Mr. Bolton," she said haughtily before walking past him and heading straight down the hallway.

"Where is Jonathan Crane?" she asked the nearest guard she found. He led her down a few more cell doors until he found the third to last on the left.

"Would you like me to wait here, ma'am?" he asked.

She was pleased that he either didn't know her "scandal" or that he just didn't care. "No, I'll be okay," she said and waited until he walked off from her distance. She turned back to the door and peered in through the glass window, where she saw the lonely, unhealthily skinny figure on the bed, his back against the wall. He was wearing the orange suit of an inmate. He was paler than last time she saw him; either the food here wasn't doing anything for him, or... _is he being_ starved? His knuckles were white as he gripped the blankets beneath him and just stared down at the floor, whatever was on his mind. Was he thinking about _her_ , to keep away from what was really going on around him? His muscles were sinew, some veins visible. The high, smooth cheekbones looked hollow and bony.

Rachel felt her heart break. She wanted to turn around and head back home, but mainly she wanted to be here and at least try to talk to him. He was just so...sad and alone. No one must even talk to him, but how could they? He hadn't been very good to his patients while he was head, was he?

As if he'd heard what she was thinking, the raven head raised up and looked at the door, seeing her face. A familiar pair of electrical blue eyes that she'd seen only in her dreams for a year and a half held her in place, preventing her from running.

~o~

Jonathan shifted on the bed as he locked eyes with a familiar pair of cerulean ones gazing at him through the window to his cell. _She's here._

 _ **I can see that. But what I can't figure out is why now. It's been a year and a half.**_

He ignored Scarecrow and continued to lock eyes with Rachel through the window. He got up from the bed slowly and walked her way so their faces were still separated between the window but otherwise inches apart. He wondered why now, like Scarecrow said, now that after word was out about their little...tryst, as they called it. He was still accused of kidnapping and violating her, even though that was not what happened. True, he took her out of here, but the latter was otherwise.

He'd heard the whispers among the doctors and other patients. They said that she'd been diagnosed with Stockholm Syndrome, which made him angry. What fools! To think that she was a victim. Jonathan also heard that she'd tried saying he didn't rape her, but no one believed her. Just let the whole thing go as though it never happened. _**Let me out so I can show them who they are talking about,**_ Scarecrow had said then, but of couse, Jonathan insisted they'd let it go and have their chance another time. If any.

And to not forget Lyle Bolton.

Three months ago he came to Arkham, at Bruce Wayne's hand - Rachel's friend from childhood. Jonathan never knew why he was such an interest with the chief of security, but he admitted he was chilled to the bones. The effect was the same on everyone else except the Joker, the only friend he'd made since he'd been here - and the one responsible for the death of the last DA, Rachel's latest flame - and Joker was always plotting to kill the man himself but hadn't yet carried it out.

 _ **Oh, Jonny, don't think of him now. Think of your queen back in your sight.**_

 _Right._ Jonathan focused back on the present. Rachel was still staring at him, clear eyes searching him. _Rachel,_ he thought to himself, letting out a sigh as he remembered the last night they were together. That passionate long moment before it was over the same night when the cops broke into his home, tore him naked from her arms, and relentlessly tossed him in with the wolves.

She surprised him before leaning up and kissing the window, leaving a little marking of her full lips on the window. He almost laughed and would have done the same if she hadn't turned her head behind her and saw her guard escort returning to take her away. _Damn it, why did he have to ruin this?_

 _ **What you need to think about is breaking out of here.**_

Jonathan's body went rigid. _Scarecrow, are you out of your…?_

 _ **No, I mean it. You gotta get out of here. Get away from Bolton and go to her. Find the Joker and convince him to break you out, maybe get himself out with you. You two are friends after all, right? And he's a master at breaking out.**_

 _Stop this._ Jonathan wrapped his arms around himself to stop the onset of chills at the thought of facing Lyle Bolton again after their many meetings.

 _ **Jonny.**_ His other half was firmer. _ **You always talked about going to her again despite the scandalous rumors surrounding you two. She was your wife; she could be again. You always said you didn't care what people thought of you, but she was another story. You even said you can't live without her. Renew your vows while you still have the chance.**_

 _You're right._ Jonathan sighed in defeat. _I can't live without her. I have to see her. And if possible, maybe we can come to an agreement to leave Gotham behind and start over fresh._

 _ **That's what I'm talking about.**_

He waited until lunch hour to look for the Joker. After gathering his "meal", he searched the cafeteria's tables until he spotted the lone man he was looking for. "Joker," he said with a nod as he sat down beside him.

The scarred man raised his charcoal-black eyes from his food. The permanent smile, painted bloody red, stretched wide into his infamous Cheshire grin. "Jonny," he said gleefully, laughing not loud for anyone to hear.

"Good to see you, too, clown," Jonathan said sarcastically. "I need your help."

"Anything for my man." He received a slap on the shoulder, and another laugh.

Jonathan looked around to make sure Bolton wasn't around. When the man was nowhere around, he lowered his voice. "I need to get out of here. And I need your help."

Joker blinked his eyes once, twice. Then he busted out laughing. _Oh, God, he's gonna get me in trouble one day,_ he complained to Scarecrow. _Bolton could hear, and then he'll dish out the punishments he's so into._ "Will you please keep quiet?" he begged Joker, who ceased his guffaws at once.

"Ahhhh, gotcha, Jonny. Let's be serious for now," he agreed. "Now, if I may, why should I get you out of here? Can I at least get myself out, too?"

"You have every right to come with me," Jonathan answered. "It's just…I can't take being around Bolton anymore. I don't want what he does to me to make me worse than I already am. Who knows how much longer I can take it? Who knows how much longer my _body_ can? And not only that…" He paused, trying to decide if he should reveal his…love for Rachel Dawes. He made a decision and finished, "There's a girl I love. I was forced to separate from her. The night before my toxin was released into the Narrows."

Joker's jaw dropped. "Ooooooh, doc, you mean Harvey Dent's little squeeze? What's her name?" He paused, feigning thought. "Hmm, what's her name? R-r-r-"

"Rachel." Jonathan gave in annoyance. "Rachel Dawes."

"Rachel, right. Ah huh. Wasn't it you two who had the little fling like you talked about? You tossed your little spray in her face and took her to your place; next morning, police bust down your home door and yank you from her hold, hmm?"

"That's it."

"Mm-hmm," Joker said again, nodding thoughtfully. "So that's what this is all about, eh? You want me to break us both outta here so you can go and live out a little fairytale lifestyle with the pretty little ADA who might still be in mourning for her beloved?"

"She _never_ loved him," Jonathan countered. "I had her before Dent. We were married before I was a fool in letting her go. It was always me."

"Mmm." The clown gave him the look that said he doubted it, but chose to say nothing. "Well, looks like we've come to an understanding. I'll try to sort things out as fast as I can right now, and by rec room time I'll let you know what I got in store. We have a deal, Jonny?"

 _ **See? Told you things would work out.**_

"Deal."

 **In one of my fics, "Elizabeth and the Scarecrow", Lyle Bolton is the main villain, so I had to bring him in here, too. He's one of those baddies, short as it was, that you just love to hate. And I did the honors of including Janet Van Dorn from BTAS in here, too. :) She's a real bad bitch with her campaign against Batman - and it won't surprise anyone with her campaign against the crazies.**

 **Joker and Jonathan's friendship in here was vital because of various fics of them I read a long time before now. :) Heath Ledger remains great to this day even though he's gone. But you know what they say, he's gone but not forgotten. If any other authors notice similarities between the duo's dialogue in this chapter and that of other fics, my apologies if it was coincidence; there's always a chance of that. But this style dialogue befits Joker and Crane. :)**

 **Rachel has a lot in store for her as she will soon be reunited with the true love of her life, as far from a fairytale as it is. More surprises and twists in store. R and R!**


	6. Now or Never

Chapter Six

Now or Never

Unfortunately for Rachel, she was forced to return to the office shortly that evening. Van Dorn needed her, saying it was urgent. _As always,_ Rachel thought sarcastically as she headed for the office of DA Janet Van Dorn.

Janet Van Dorn was probably the toughest District Attorney, not someone Rachel could look up to as an idol. Who _could?_ She was from a family who thrived on law and justice, but unlike Harvey, she despised the Batman and disagreed with Commissioner Gordon, as well as anyone else who wouldn't cooperate with her. Rachel was included. That was why she missed Harvey, because being in the office besides grueling cases, it was wonderful to have someone to talk to after a hard day.

"Rachel, you're here," the woman said, remaining sitting behind her paper-covered desk, sharp blue eyes hidden by wire-framed spectacles taking in the black-and-white garb of the ADA in contrast to her navy suit and white blouse. Unlike Rachel's soft brown hair being bunned up lovingly, Van Dorn's was in a low ponytail. And her eyes were critical and calculating.

"So I am, Janet," Rachel said with a short nod. "What do you need me for that's so important?"

Janet rose. "You're the Assistant DA, _my_ assistant…" she added insolently. "…yet sometimes I'd expect you to figure out why sometimes."

Her insufferable behavior was enough to match Lyle Bolton's. And enough to also get under her skin. She had been good at doing that in the last five months. "Well, excuse me then," Rachel spat as she set her purse down. "Would you care to tell me then?"

"This has got to stop." Janet flung down a stack of papers she'd held in her hand right on the desk surface. "I've received a call from the asylum that the Joker escaped _yet_ again. And you know who he has taken with him?"

Rachel pretended not to know, even though she knew, even though it was only a guess. "I'm afraid not."

Janet's steely blue eyes narrowed viciously. "Your Scarecrow lover, that's who."

"Jonathan Crane escaped with him?" Rachel asked incredulously in spite of herself. _If he escaped,_ she thought, _then he's sure to come find me. I doubt he'd let me go after that night and our brief reunion earlier._

"You seem enthralled," Van Dorn noted. "Expecting a family reunion?"

"That's none of your concern," Rachel burst out in both spit and in words. "I have no interest in having a repeat of the past with a criminal."

Van Dorn glared at her. "None of _my_ concern, you say? Well, then, perhaps your little scandal with the madman who once ran the nuthouse should be of no concern, as well? Given that everyone knows, besides myself?"

"You wouldn't know a _thing_ about what happened between Jonathan and I." Rachel stood her full ground. The DA stood only a couple inches taller than her, but like the others before her, Rachel was not intimidated. She knew that she was the one in charge if Van Dorn, who had just circled her desk and now stood in front of her, said otherwise. "You are just like everyone else, Janet. You judge before you know what really happened. Just like when they falsely accused Jonathan of raping me."

"If I am like those you speak of, Rachel…" Janet drawled on her name. "…then I should point out that you might be like the other 'helpless' victims who claim that their captor didn't do anything just to protect them, when actually they _did_."

Rachel gasped at what the woman was implying. "How _dare_ you say that," she hissed, hands clenching into fists. "When it's not true."

"Oh, Rachel dear." Janet faked sweetness. "You know justice isn't perfect."

"And I know better," Rachel countered, prepared to strike the bitch. "I've had to spent less than the last decade of my life trying to fix this collapsing city, especially before Harvey came along. And he did a good job, just like the Batman is still doing."

"The Batman is the reason Gotham is worse than ever," Janet said. "He brought the craziness. The Joker is the result; your Harvey's death was the result of his existence. And I'm here trying to pick up the pieces where he left off."

"What you're doing is far more extreme than what I've gone through." Rachel felt her nails dig into her palms, prepared to draw blood. _Hit the bitch already!_ "So far, with the criminals, you've denied some of them parole no matter how large or small their offense, and many of them a private jury, so many parts of their rights and what's listed in the amendments. You've done the same with the Joker."

She couldn't believe she was speaking this way about the man who killed Harvey. "And Jonathan, too. The man I was married to long before any of this."

Janet sucked in a big breath. Rachel smiled. She liked every minute of this. _I feel so in charge._ She waited for her "employer" to say something, but when Van Dorn said nothing, Rachel went on. "You got nothing to say, I see. You know that threats are signs of weakness." She straightened up, shoulders back. "I've said enough, Janet. If there is nothing more you need me for. I bid you good night then." And just like that, Rachel Dawes turned and left the befuddled and infuriated District Attorney standing there in the center of her office.

~o~

Sometimes he hated Joker for being crazier than he was. Nothing he did was anything Jonathan would ever do, such as grabbing a bomb and blowing the alarm, setting off the hole in the wall for the two of them, in time to flee into the sunlight, but Joker had a hideout he knew of until night fell...but that was also when the Batman could very much find them.

"Oh, don't worry about the Bat," the clown assured him. "I'll have a way to keep him occupied elsewhere while I get you to your girl."

He barely paid attention or even engaged Joker in conversation as the day passed; all he wanted to do was sleep because he was so tired...but it felt exhilarating to finally be free from Arkham and from Bolton. His stomach stirred, and the nausea hit him that he'd tried to throw up after arriving at Joker's hideaway in the old amusement park, not that far near Old Town - which was distances from Rachel's complex that the excitement added to his sickness.

Joker's shriek of delighted laughter brought his attention up from his lap, and the apartment complex _she_ lived sprang into sharp relief. _**Woo hoo, here we are, Jonny,**_ Scarecrow cheered.

"Well, aren't you going to get out of the car and go or what?" Joker asked impatiently. "Your girl's been without you long enough. Daylight is never too early, if you don't want to face Batsy now." In response, Jonathan heaved in a deep breath to quell his carsickness, leaning his head back to help, but it didn't help entirely.

It was starting to rain, and the storm clouds had darkened, and his eyes were throbbing with a mild migraine. _God, I don't feel so good,_ he moaned to Scarecrow.

 _ **As of lately,**_ was the cocky response.

"Jonny, ya alright?" Joker whipped around when he noticed the change in Jonathan's behavior. He raised an eyebrow when Jonathan leaned forward, head nearly touching his knees. "You don't look so good."

"I feel _terrible_." _**You've been vomiting every day for nearly a month now. You've had the fever several days after your encounter with the fat-ass, you've…**_

 _Enough._

Joker _tsked-tsked_ beside him, and he soon felt a hand on his shoulder. "You're _definitely_ not green," he said. "Whatever's the matter with ya?"

Jonathan didn't want to tell him the complete truth about his illness. "I've just been sicker than normal, that's all."

The clown must've seen through his half-truth. "You're not being completely honest with me, Jonny. Not gonna work with me. Now, come on. Be honest with your best friend here. What's the matter?"

Jonathan felt his temper threaten to break loose. "I don't want to tell anyone right now. I'm not ready." He hoped his voice was successful in closing the subject with no need for further discussion.

Joker blinked once. Then he snorted and shook his head. "Fine by me. But are you gonna tell your little girlfriend about it?"

Jonathan felt his insides freeze. _Rachel,_ he thought. _What if she doesn't want to be with me anymore if I tell her?_ he asked his alter ego.

 _ **You don't know that for sure,**_ Scarecrow countered.

Oh, he wanted to, but he was so afraid.

~o~

"Who does that woman think she is?" Rachel practically screamed in the air as soon as she was home. She angrily threw her purse on the counter, yanked off her blazer and flopped down on her couch in fury, screaming into the pillow like an angry little girl. She knew it was childish, but two people had gotten under her skin in one day.

One witch-hunting DA _and_ a fat, sadistic chief of security at Arkham Asylum.

Rachel sometimes wished Harvey was here again, but not in the way they used to be after she'd rejected Bruce. He knew how to handle justice. By his gut, not just by the books. But Van Dorn was the thorn in her side, intent on "cleaning" Gotham up by any means she could.

And Bolton…her gut was telling her that Bruce might've misjudged the man when he hired him to oversee Arkham's inmates.

 _At least Jonathan is out of there. And will he come to me again?_

She heard the sound of thunder outside, telling her that a storm was coming. Rachel stood from her damask-embossed sofa and waltzed over to her balcony, where she threw the door open to reveal the little garden she'd created herself.

The doorway was hung with exotic passion flowers, some of creamy white accented with blue-purple filaments and others of deep red with purple-and-white centers; the spent ones had left behind egg-shaped orange fruits. The boxes on top of the railings overlooking the neighborhood were filled with the gorgeous, petite beauties of sweet peas and primroses…and a new plant that had just been discovered known as the "parrot plant". They were miniature seedpods resembling parrots, appearing green with fluffy, silky hairs ready to catch the wind. They were even said to attract butterflies, even the monarchs.

Rachel crossed to the balcony, walking around the little Palermo fountain in the center of the floor, so she could finger one of the dark green leaves of the climbing roses dominating the railing. The roses were vigorously red with velvety petals and a rich damask aroma. Inhaling it, Rachel let herself drift off into fantasy….

~o~

 _"I told you I would come back."_

 _Her eyes were closed, but she felt her back against a smooth, lithe body bare as she was - what was it with being naked that she enjoyed it so much? - and nothing else around them but heat and serenity. She tilted her head to the side and allowed soft, full lips to kiss and explore her neck with utter tenderness and devoid of the animalistic lust she anticipated. "Jonathan," she moaned when his arms came to wrap around her, holding her close to him. Her own came up to cover his. "Is it really you?"_

 _His teeth grasped her ear briefly, making her shudder and tingle with pleasure. "Who could it be, my little flower?"_

 _She laughed. "Where are we?"_

 _"Open your eyes and find out."_

 _She obeyed and saw where they were...but she didn't know WHERE was. They were surrounded with exotic-looking trees as well as fields upon fields of flowers - exquisite roses of soft pink with very dark hearts, white lilies marvelously lined with dark pink in the middle of the petals while others were rich dark rose edged with white; finally white roses edged with red. A spicy and sweet smelled dominated the air. This was paradise; they were Adam and Eve. She felt her pulse race with her heart as she slowly turned around to face him, gazing into electric blue eyes and soothed by his voice as his hands caressed her arms and back, seducing her..._

 _"We'll never lose each other again."_

~o~

She snapped out of it when she instantly felt cold and wet. Her clothes were soaked from the rain, and her hair matted against her head. Rachel shook herself and cursed silently, turning to walk back into her apartment for a nice hot bath and some food afterwards.

She completely forgot that she left the balcony door unlocked.

~o~

He had been watching her from below, in the car that Joker had stolen just for them. There she was, the goddess in the white tank and black skirt, her hair out of her face then ruined - only slightly - by the viciously pouring rain. Standing on her balcony in a small, little personal paradise of her own making, looking up at the stormy sky with a dreamy look on her face. _**I wonder what she's thinking about, Jonny boy.**_

 _Beats me._ Jonathan shrugged, taking his eyes off from the balcony, which was now deserted, to look down at the gift in his hands that he'd bought - well, stolen - for her. Joker had managed to pull a small heist for some money and snatch it from wherever he found it, at Jonathan's request to get something for Rachel. _Maybe she's thinking of me._

 _ **Just what I was thinking. And look, she left the door unlocked**_ **just** _ **for you.**_

Jonathan blinked in surprise. _For me? Does she even know I'm out?_

 _ **Well, technically, word sounds of breakouts, so everyone must know that we are out of Arkham. If so, then Little Miss Rachel must know, too.**_

He felt a nudge on the shoulder, and looked back to see the clown grinning at him. "The queen awaits. Now's your chance, Jonny."

 _Here goes nothing. It's now or never._ "Where will you be?" he asked.

Joker's grin remained. "I'll keep an eye on you. I have my ways. And if I'm back in that padded cell, I'll bust out. Again…" He winked. "I have my ways."

~o~

Half an hour later, Rachel emerged from her bathroom wearing a satin animal-floral print robe in shades of sand, sky and ocean turquoise over a sensual turquoise slip that hit mid-thigh. She sighed pleasantly as the heat from her bathwater scented like glazed apple and coconut had done its wonders in relieving the stress she'd experienced all day. Her hair, now smelling of fresh peach, was hanging down her back, still wet. Her legs had been shaved and were now sporting pink glitter shimmer and irresistible smooth radiance.

Her stomach growled, and she laughed, realizing just how hungry she was. However, just as she prepared a pot of chicken soup, she noticed the rose on the counter next to her. The rose looked like it came from her balcony, for its petals were still the same velvety red with the same enticing smell. Beside the rose was a winking golden trinket... _a ring._ The band was tapered and set with an oval-shaped natural emerald, glimmering mystically.

 _Jonathan._ Rachel held them close to her breast. _He's here. I knew he's come._ She then frowned. _But how? How did he get in?_

A sudden realization hit her: _The balcony door was left opened_.

"Rachel."

She whipped around and saw his fiery blues gazing at her, and her heart felt like it had burst, and she nearly dropped the treasures as it began to beat rapidly as she found herself face-to-face with her lover and former husband. "J-Jonathan."

"My one true love." He leaned down then and kissed her, nearly throwing her off her feet, but he held her close as though she was the last thing in the world he had to hold onto at the edge of the cliff. When he released her, she felt her lips swell as she tried to breathe again. "I've missed you so. A long year and a half without seeing you except in my dreams. I could never let you go after they tore us from each other's arms withot so much as letting us say one last good-bye."

She felt her brows furrow; she did not ever remember her Jonathan speaking like that, like a passion-struck literary hero rescuing his lady, but before she could speak, he immediately tore away from her. Just like that, after revealing his feelings, he went and threw up in her kitchen trash can. _He's sick,_ she realized, before her overprotective side kicked in. _But why would he come all the way out to me if he was sick? And he's surely wanted now that he broke out of Arkham._

She couldn't keep him here, for the police would surely come here and interrogate her. _Since they know of my past with him._

Another side of her told her that she had to keep him here. She didn't want to lose him ever again. _I have no choice. I'll take the risk._

"Jonathan." Rachel rushed over to him just as he was about to collapse onto the cold, hard tiled floor of her kitchen. "Oh, my God. You're ill, aren't you?"

"I am," he confessed, sitting on top of the now-closed can, just barely, and looking down at the ground. "Been this way for nearly a couple weeks now, perhaps nearly a month. I've lost track, sort of. I've had this...fever, been tired a lot and vomiting."

"And you've lost weight." Rachel tried to hide her shock as she felt his torso, counting his ribs in the process. "My God, Jonathan, what's happened to you?"

His eyes, watering, looked at her, and she felt his body shaking beneath her hands. "R-Rachel, I'm cold."

"Oh, oh, oh..." Rachel repeated the same word as though she were chanting as she led him out of the kitchen and into her bathroom, where she helped him sit down on the closed toilet seat. She then crossed to her bath tub and quickly turned on the hot water, hoping it would help. While she grabbed her favorite bathwater scent, a series of questions ran through her brain. _What's really wrong with Jonathan? How can he be this sick?_

She turned around when she heard his sharp intakes of breath, which worried her. Rachel then crossed over to him and helped him stand up and proceeded to undress him. His shirt was off first, and she gasped. There were the visible ribs she'd felt, but not only that, there was only a faint trace of the lean pecs of his chest, and some purplish bruises on his stomach here and there. They looked either new, or they might've been there for a while.

And Rachel knew who was responsible.

She vowed to kick Lyle Bolton's ass if she could.

Jonathan turned his face away as if he couldn't bear looking at her. _He's afraid_ , Rachel thought as she finished stripping him, revealing some more faint bruises on his legs. But that wasn't all. The soft dark hair at the root of his manhood…there was barely any there, except there was some around the base of his length, just barely _any_ above it. It was like it was… _ripped off by a bare hand._

 _Jonathan wouldn't do that to himself. He's not stupid, or foolish, or reckless enough to do such a thing. Unless…_

 _Unless someone did it_ to _him._

That just about came to her understanding with the drama of a death drum. The signs were all clear.

Her Jonathan had been _raped._

"He did this to you," she hissed, though when she looked up at him, she tried to look as tender as she possibly could. He didn't answer, just kept his head bowed in shame.

~o~

 _She knows,_ Jonathan told Scarecrow as he lay in the apple-and-coconut-scented bath Rachel had prepared for him, letting the beautiful girl above him lave his greasy hair with shampoo that smelled like peaches. Not bad; an innocent enough hair scent. _She knows what he did to me. You saw it in her eyes._

 _ **I know, but you have yet to discuss it with her.**_

Jonathan badly _wanted_ to tell her, but the terror he'd felt before came rushing back. _I know I have to, but I'm still afraid of what'll happen if I did._

Jonathan moaned as Rachel's fingers massaged his scalp, working the suds through and getting the oil out. It had been so long since she did this for him, and he for her. Some minutes after she was done, she put both hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him down into the water. Not all the way under, but enough to keep his face out and rinse his hair.

After draining the tub and drying him, he was dressed up in a t-shirt and sleep pants. He felt his head spin, like he was going to faint; Jonathan's vision went black, and he quickly sat down and lowered his head so it was close to touching his knees. He wondered if he'd stood too fast, maybe moved too fast, but he couldn't recall anything right now.

"Maybe you should lie down," he heard Rachel suggest. He felt her hands on him again, this time one under his elbow and the other behind his back, helping him stand up and guide him out of the bathroom, where he had his first look at the bed he was directed to. It was full-sized and covered with silk covers embroidered exquisitely with medallions of nature and paisley together. _As exquisite as she is._ Rachel pulled the covers back down and helped him lie down, before drawing them back up so he was consumed by their warmth.

But it was not the same as her warm skin.

"Jonathan," Rachel said, breaking the silence. "You don't have to tell me anything right now, but when you're ready. I'll wait for as long as you want."

The memories he worked hard to shove down threatened to come back, but he shook his head which drive them back and closed, then locked the door. "I'm _not_ ready," he said, voice booking no need for further questions. "But there is _something_ I want to tell you." He paused to take a shuddering breath. "Are you familiar with split personalities?"

"Yes."

"I have one. Named Scarecrow." _There, I've said it._

Rachel looked shell-shocked. _Oh, now she thinks I'm insane,_ he thought, but then realized otherwise when she asked, "What about him?"

"He's been with me all my life, since I was a child and I thought the voice inside my head was an imaginary friend, but as I grew, I managed to keep him under control during my college years. He was my protector whenever someone did something wrong to me; my sole reason for living besides you. But then…he's been stronger than ever, and he soon became an actual part of me. He's not something you can push aside easily. He's…one half of me. The stronger side of me." _**Way to go, Jonny. I told you so.**_

He was tired, too tired to talk. Yawning, he settled back into the warmth of the bed before he passed out.

~o~

Rachel stared at the man passed out on her bed. _He has a second personality,_ she thought, her hands shaking uncontrollably. _A case of schizophrenia. Much more complex than I thought._ She wasn't sure how to react to this. The man she'd known since high school, married for a couple years after college before divorcing, then locked horns on numerous occasions only to lose him after one night of a start of a reconnection in a strange, illegal kind of way...Jonathan had a second personality he kept to himself all these years from her.

She wanted to scream as to why he never trusted her with this other half of himself, but as she continued to look at him in her bed, she couldn't. _I think I want to meet this...second half. But if he's as dangerous as Jonathan said he was..._

Rachel ceased her thoughts and refocused on the present. He'd been violated in Arkham, whatever happened to him that Lyle Bolton _was_ responsible, then Jonathan would tell her when he wanted to.

But still, the constant vomiting, the fever, the chills…

 _What if it's_ not _just an average fever?_

There was only one person she knew who could help her. Looking up at the clock, she saw that it was only eight. It wasn't too late to get a hold of Dr. Quinzelle, whom she could definitely rely on in medical health besides mental illness.

 _"Hello?"_

"Hey, Harleen, it's Rachel."

 _"Rachel! So good to hear from you,"_ she exclaimed. "What can I do for you?"

"A favor," Rachel answered nervously.

 _"What are friends for?"_

"Jonathan," was all she could get out.

 _"You mean your_ Scarecrow _is back! Geez, that's wonderful! Tell me all about the reunion!"_

"I'll tell you tomorrow, because I need you to make a housecall sometime tomorrow because he's sick, and I can't take him to the hospital. If I take him there, the authorities will come for him. Do you have time?"

 _"Oh, I definitely have time! I'll drop by at six PM if that's not too late. I look forward to meeting him, Rach. You owe me one."_

~o~

He remembered liking Dr. Harleen Quinzelle the moment he met her the following day, talking with her for awhile with Rachel in the room before she took down his symptoms and then some samples of himself to test to confirm her suspicions. A week went by since then, and he'd live with Rachel since then.

The police had come to her home, of course, but they did not find him for he had hidden in the bathroom closet as deep as he would, trying not to make any noise. And now Quinzelle, the bubbly but professional blonde, was back. A psychiatrist required full medical training, so he was pleased that Rachel could count on her therapist friend.

The question had bristled him when she asked him when the raping at the hands of Lyle Bolton started; Rachel had to have told her what she'd seen, and surprisingly, Harleen did not ask Jonathan to drop his clothes to show, besides lifting his shirt up to reveal the bruises and his showing ribs, shocking her as much as Rachel did. "I met Lyle Bolton two months ago, and sometime later, I became his number one favorite to toy with. I can't remember how many times, but I got the first fever several days after the first time. Been very unwell for nearly a month now."

"Which confirms something else I found, which is a bit of an oddity I'm not sure if you were ever aware, but Rachel, I know you're not." Harleen raised an eyebrow. "Did he ever tell you about his...condition?"

Jonathan felt himself tense, feeling Rachel's eyes on him as she answered her therapist. "No. Jonathan, what's she talking about?" He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He felt his cheeks flush with humiliation as the truth itself came out into the open.

"Rachel, it appears that Jonathan is pregnant."

 **Lovers reunited, only for Rachel to welcome home a very sick Jonathan - and a violated one, too. :( Damn Bolton for this, but he'll pay in the future.**

 **I hope no one was deeply disturbed by the mpreg. The explanation will come in the next chapter, so stay tuned, read and review.**


	7. Unexpected News

**So, the story I read in which Jonathan is pregnant was "He's WHAT?" by Joker'sOnlyFear, the person who created numerous oneshots of Jonathan/Joker love, and lovely maturity. ;) Although it's just that Heath Ledger needs some respect, so I haven't seen any more of them lately, but it's nothing personal. I LOVE some steaminess myself. (fans self) But that besides the point.**

 **Bolton did rape Jonathan numerous times in Arkham, as in other fics I read in the past, but the explanation for how it was possible was not mentioned in "He's WHAT?" It's a real life condition called hermaphroditism, and Harleen will explain.**

 **I'm really unhappy because someone told me they lost interest. I'm begging others to not do the same because they have to see the depths of this story; a lot of things make it interesting along the way, and I have more greater twists to come. :) So, I beg you, no one stop just because of what Jonathan has. The results will be happy, I promise.**

Chapter Seven

Unexpected News

Jonathan's eyes rolled up into his head and fainted, his head landing straight on Rachel's lap, who was just as stunned. _Jonathan…characteristics of both sexes…pregnant…_ All those thoughts were so much to absorb. Her lover was a person with both gender organs, but it wasn't something you go around telling everyone.

And now he was with child. _Lyle Bolton's_ child.

She wanted to throw up.

Harleen looked down at the unconscious criminal with sympathy. "Aww, didn't take it too well, huh?"

"Not at all," Rachel answered, but she felt like she was under a spell. Jonathan never told her he was...what was it called? She _remembered_ the only explanation, but her mind was in too much turmoil to process. "Harleen, how would you explain this? He never once said anything about this." If she said she believed he was honest and was unaware, she'd be lying to Harleen and to herself. The blonde shook her head.

"I'd react that way, too, if I were him." She reached into her soft pink jacket and pulled out her notepad and pen.

"How far along is he?" Rachel asked curiously. She continued to stare down at Jonathan's peaceful face.

"Barely a month," Harleen answered. "He's a hermaphrodite, since I never mentioned it before. A person with reproductive organs of both male and female, born that way, but no one knows what _causes_ it." She stopped writing and set the pad and pen in her lap as she looked up but not making direct eye contact with Rachel. "I imagine he was told sometime before you met him, but he was too ashamed to tell you. You understand, right, Rachel?"

She wanted so much to say yes, and her heart broke. So many secrets between Jonathan and herself, and it made her wonder if his condition was among the additional pain of having a separate personality as well as a father who experimented on his own son and other people to try and cure himself of his own fear of failing his wife. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but as she looked at his sickly face, she thought it would be too much for him...but they needed to discuss somehow.

"I'm sorry this happened to the both of you. You two in a whirling romance ending terribly, then hating each other for four more years, finally starting to reconnect and understand each other better - only to be separated when everyone found out who he really was."

Rachel nodded numbly. "To know what it was like to lose his mother, his father going mad and passing it all down to his son. Just to fall in love with him because you were the first he could ever talk to, be there for him if anyone tried to speak to him the way they do only to get nearly the same treatment, and watch his passion for his life's work grow until it no longer became about you two together, and for the same to become of yourself when it involves the very city you were born and try to save from the scum in the streets - the same scum he despises only to take them from jail and placed into therapy to cover up his tracks involving struggling with funds for his research and turning to a mob boss and an even bigger threat against the city, the latter being responsible with deceiving him. Then he loses everything he had - except me, when it doesn't seem like anyone or anything could come between us again. The next minute you know, the police barge in and take him from your arms. Especially after you get a taste of his life's work, understanding the depth of his purpose and allowing yourself to be opened up for him to understand and help you." She closed her eyes; she felt like she was rambling, perhaps leaving a small part out, but it didn't matter. She'd told Harleen everything in their previous sessions, and now with Jonathan passed out in her arms. Her eyes then traveled over his abdomen where a little blip was slowly growing. What was she going to do with Jonathan now, what was he going to do with a baby, and how will they ever make a long-term relationship work?

This was going to be harder than she thought.

~o~

 _I'm pregnant,_ Jonathan moaned to Scarecrow as he slowly came to. _I'm goddamn pregnant, by_ Bolton!

 _ **Holy shit,**_ was the answer. _**Man, I never thought your innards, more advanced than a motor car's, would actually be functional. Should have had that checked a long time ago.**_

 _Shut up, will you? You're not being very supportive right now._

 _ **Okay, okay, fine. Congratulations then, Jonny.**_

 _"Congratulations"? I'm a man for crying out loud. Men don't conceive children by other men. It should never have been like this. And I don't even think I'm ready for this._

His alter ego sighed. _**Okay, I'm sorry.**_

Groaning, Jonathan sat up and stretched his aching muscles. He found himself lying in Rachel's bed once again. _Guess she put me in here after I passed out, yet again._

Scarecrow laughed. _**How many times are you going to faint out on her, and she has to drag your little ass to bed until you awake?**_

Jonathan growled and was about to comeback when none other than Rachel walked into the room with a plate of food. "Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes," she said with honey humor, sitting down next to him.

He laughed. "Yeah, sorry I passed out again. It's just that…"

"This whole pregnancy was quite the shock."

There was a strained silence between them. Jonathan found himself staring down at the TV dinner of fried chicken, unsure of how to explain himself. He could never bring himself to tell her about this when they were married or when they were still in high school. He felt ashamed of himself for that; his parents had told him when he was thirteen and just beginning puberty, but to relive what he felt after being told he was not like the other boys was more than young Jonathan could bear. He trembled to himself and felt his throat constrict; he used to be strong and proud, but ever since he was arrested and what Bolton did to him, he felt like the weak child he was when Karen died.

"I'm sorry," he croaked. "I didn't know how to tell you; it was so difficult. I've gone through my whole life ashamed of this part of myself." A hot tear left his eye and rolled down his cheek, but he didn't wipe it.

"I'll admit, it's a surprise to me, too," she said softly, "but no one should go through life ashamed of who they are."

"I don't know if I can go through _this_. _He_ did this to me." Jonathan was surprised at how his voice returned normal to remain steady despite his burning hatred at the fat man.

"I know he did. Which is why I've decided to launch a private investigation into his activities. I won't include you, but I'm now believing he's done this to some of the other inmates, too." She leaned across the plate and kissed him full on the lips.

"You getting your billionaire friend involved?" Jonathan asked when they broke apart. It was Bruce Wayne who hired Bolton in the first place, but sometimes he was jealous of the man because of his friendship with Rachel.

"Yes. He was the one who hired Bolton. And now he's just as suspicious as I was before all this."

"Does he know about me? What happened to me?"

"Not yet, but I can't tell him about you. I don't want to risk word out that you're here. I'm going to hell for all of this, not that I'm not already." She kissed him again. "I'll do everything I can to get that fat bastard out of the way. Even if it means going to extremes, even if it means I won't have to tell Van Dorn."

~o~

Bruce agreed to hold a private hearing to address Lyle Bolton's activities with the inmates. And she was to be present - Van Dorn would know nothing - along with Bruce, Jim Gordon, Mayor Garcia, and Dr. Arkham, the head psychologist of the asylum.

Jeremiah Arkham was sitting in his immaculate office, updating case histories when Rachel walked in, dressed in a green turtleneck and black skirt and heels. "Doctor," she said, shutting the door behind her. The older doctor looked up, startled at the sight of the beautiful young woman in front of him.

"Well, Miss Dawes, what a surprise to see you. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to know if you would be so kind as to participate in the private, informal hearing regarding the allegations against Mr. Lyle Bolton." Rachel cut right to the chase, holding out the list of the names of the inmates who claimed to have been subjected to Bolton's "methods". "The numbers list up to over fifty."

"My goodness." Arkham eyed the names with shocked interest. "Miss Dawes, this has most certainly caught my attention." He lifted his spectacled eyes back up to her. "As head doctor, I must be the judge at this hearing. When can we begin the investigation on this matter?"

"It doesn't matter, but it has to be soon." _The sooner, the better,_ Rachel thought, thinking of the man she loved, who by now was cozied up in her apartment and keeping himself entertained while dealing with an unexpected pregnancy.

~o~

 _ **How's it being an expectant "mommy"?**_ Scarecrow teased.

 _Don't call me a "mommy",_ Jonathan snapped with a roll of his eyes. _That term is for a woman expecting._ He pulled out a Harlequin Romance novel titled _Romancing the Lawyer._ He smirked. Very ironic, that Rachel Dawes owned a novel related to her own personal experience. He read the back cover, which covered the plot surrounded a spouseless female lawyer entrusted to the case of a framed "murderer" who may or may not have killed his wife regardless of what the courts said. _And the lawyer finds herself seeing that here's more to the man than meets the eye…_ Jonathan thought with a smile.

 _ **And the two try to deny the spark between them, while the woman feels that not only her career is at stake - it's her heart,**_ his inner self finished with a grin. _**Sound familiar, Jonny boy?**_

 _Stop bringing it up._ He grabbed the book and settled back against the soft damask sofa, sighing heavily as he opened the page up.

A bark of laughter made him nearly jump out of his skin. He turned around, and saw a familiar scarred, painted man dressed in purple. "Joker, what are you doing here?" he demanded, rising. "How did you get in here?"

"Miss Beautiful left her bedroom window unlocked," the clown replied, grinning and shrugging. "Silly her, wouldn't you agree? Especially when this city is overrun with petty thugs unlike ourselves. Thought I'd drop in and see how my best friend was doing."

Staring at him, Jonathan said, "Well, I'm fine." _**Half-truth, Jonny**_ , Scarecrow told him. _**You feel like telling him your condition?**_

Crane was mortified. _God, no! He'll make fun of me being pregnant._

 _ **He laughs at everything. You know that. Why should you be surprised?**_

His alter ego had a point. _You're right._ "Joker, this is going to sound ridiculous, but…I'm pregnant."

Joker's charcoal eyes blinked lazily for a second, before he broke out into laughter again. "Wh-what? Jonny, that is funny. That's a very good _joke_. What, did you have a sex change before you met your girlfriend?"

 _How_ dare _he insult my manhood!_ He felt his cheeks heat up and blush. "It's not a joke. I'm a month along. I was born a hermaphrodite, with both male and female organs. Rachel's friend, who is both a psychiatrist and a medical doctor, diagnosed me. I'm going to have a baby."

Joker stared back at him with a slack jaw. This was something that Jonathan rarely saw in his friend. "How did you...? How did you…get this way? It couldn't have been your little girlfriend," he added, mouth twitching up at a corner. "How would she do that?"

 _ **Okay, are you gonna tell him?**_ Scarecrow questioned.

 _I want to, but you know the average raped men being called gay and disbelieved by everyone._ "It wasn't Rachel. It was...Bolton. He did this to me. And I'm leaving it at that."

He soon felt arms wrapped around him in a tight hug.

~o~

They'd won their case.

As she and Bruce had suspected, Lyle Bolton had pushed the boundaries of the law and used unnecessary means to keep his prisoners in line. The questioned inmates listed had, in terrified states, confessed to him threatening, beating, and chaining them down at night. _He's a beast,_ Rachel thought, infuriated.

His true colors were showed when he broke into a violent outburst at the private hearing and attacked the orderlies attempting to restrain him, resulting in Dr. Arkham firing him.

And that look he'd given Rachel…that venomous death glare that said "You'll pay for this"… But Bruce had been there and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder to assure her that he wasn't coming back.

But even her best friend's comfort did not ease her wariness of the monster who'd raped and impregnated the man she loved.

And thank God Janet, the Wicked Bitch of the North, didn't have to know about this.

She walked up the stairs to her apartment, eager to see Jonathan after the rather "exciting" episode. She was so giddy with excitement that she couldn't wait to tell him the news that Bolton had been fired from the asylum.

However, the moment she entered her living room, she had not expected her houseguest to have company. Who happened to be none other than… "Joker." Saying his name was poisonous on her tongue.

"Well, hello there, _beautiful_ ," he drawled, shifting his body on the sofa so he was facing her. His deep, emotionless eyes traveled up and over her, not in a pervasive manner though. "Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, reaching for her taser in her purse.

The clown laughed. "Now, isn't that a way to greet an old friend?"

"You're no friend of mine," Rachel hissed. "You are delusional, thinking that we are friends, even after you murdered my boyfriend?"

He burst out laughing, ignoring the look Jonathan was giving him, but Rachel saw that he was getting uncomfortable with the situation. And the clown still hadn't answered her question. "You never did say why you were here," she said once his insane laughter subsided.

"Yes, you never answered the lady," Jonathan concurred with a smirk, making her melt. _He's one damn sexy man_. She frowned to herself. _I've never thought like that before_. She'd thought him beautiful in an ethereal way, but not sexy. That was a new word to her dictionary.

Joker grinned. "I wanted to see my old buddy here, see how he was doing," he answered conversationally. "And he seems to be doing all right while living with his little girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Rachel snapped. Jonathan's eyes flashed with some hurt, which sent a pang of regret in her stomach. _Way to go, girl. You hurt his feelings_.

"Fine. Lover then."

"Why am I not surprised that you know of our little past?" She turned her attention from the clown to where her lover sat. "Jonathan, Bolton has been fired from Arkham today. The inmates that Gordon and I questioned - Van Dorn not being there - all confessed to being beaten and abused by him, but no mentions of rape."

Joker swiveled his head around from her to Jonathan. "If I may say so, if any of them were, they wouldn't tell."

 _Just like Jonathan didn't want to tell me the first night_ , Rachel thought, feeling guilty. "And then he exploded and attacked some orderlies, and Dr. Arkham finally released him. And my friend Bruce Wayne is making a donation for a replacement."

"So, I have to go back to Arkham now," she heard Jonathan whisper.

"No, not in your condition, Jonny," Joker said, placing a gloved hand on his forearm. "If any of them white-crooks lay a hand on you, you won't have strength to defend yourself. And that little one in there…" He prodded a finger on Jonathan's stomach, making him wince. "…won't stand a chance."

 _He knows,_ Rachel thought, shocked.

"My best suggestion is you hide until the heat cools down."

All her earlier anger and hatred at the man who killed Harvey vanished, replaced by admiration and agreement at his suggestion. She stopped. Where could Jonathan go? He didn't have anywhere outside her apartment. She couldn't take him to Wayne Manor; he would uncover Batman's identity _. Might as well stay here and increase the risk. Even if it means risking my life and career, now that I know he's my top priority now._

"Jonathan stays with me, Joker," she said. "And I don't care if someone finds him out here sooner or later. I'm now willing to risk myself for the sake of the man I love and the child he's carrying. I'm ready for anything."

She watched as Jonathan stood up. "Excuse me, but I'm suddenly not feeling well," he said, before dashing for the bathroom, leaving her alone with the clown.

"Ya know, it's kinda funny that he's half a woman," he said, almost conversationally.

Rachel's anger fired up. "How is that funny?" she growled, setting her purse down and sitting down to slip off her heels.

"I don't know." Joker shrugged. "Just that I've never known or heard of anyone like that. Must be rare."

"It is rare. After all, you don't see a man walking around with a baby bump every day."

"Mmm. True." They sat in silence. Well, Joker did, while Rachel walked around the kitchen to prepare a meal for three. "So," Joker said after a while, "you gonna be the future Mrs. Crane or what? Like you used to?"

The question surprised her. She turned around from the stove. "Now why would I rush and tie the knot with him?" she asked with both brows raised in curiosity. _On second thought, it's a yes...but how?_

Joker shrugged. "Well, you see, I may not be the whole matrimony type of a guy, but I know that there's something between you and Jonny boy than the whole public thinks of you. Ya knew each other long before that. I _know_ that what you have is not a case of Stockholm Syndrome, something that the captive develops to feel for her kidnapper. It's not something that you can get rid of with the help of pills and therapy. It runs much, much _much_ deeper than that."

"It's love." As much as she hated to admit it… _He's right._

~o~

"So, why did Jonathan have to be friends with you of all people in the first place?" Rachel questioned. Jonathan winced, even though she didn't appear angry or accusing.

Joker seemed unaffected. He merely laughed. "Oh ya know, Jonny was a loner and had no friends other than his little mind buddy called Scarecrow, and you know how the other patients and doctors hated him for what he did to them before he was locked up in with them crazies." He took a massive _chomp_ out of the steak she'd grilled on the stove. "This is rather tasty, by the way, R-R -"

Jonathan groaned aloud and leaned back against his chair. _Will that Glasgow-painted idiot ever remember her name?_

"Rachel," he heard her say, still unaffected. "And thank you."

"Rachel," the clown repeated, nodding. "And your welcome," he returned with a grin. Jonathan could not help but smile at the scene around him. Here they were, the three of them eating dinner and having friendly talk in Rachel Dawes' home, not having to worry about anyone, not even Batman or the police, busting in and taking them away. Not right now, anyway.

But then Rachel had to ruin it with this: "You know, Joker, I still hate you for what you did to me, to Harvey, and to this city."

He looked back at the clown, expecting him to say a comeback, but he laughed, yet again. "Now, that's not nice. I thought that was in the past."

"Six months isn't enough to soften a girl's hardened heart," Rachel spat, her dainty hand clenching her fork, manicured nails threatening to cut her own palm.

Joker whistled. "Whoo, six months, eh? And I'd thought it was enough time to soothe that little heart of yours." He winked. Again, Jonathan rolled his eyes; his alter ego laughed like a hyena. _**Jonny, I swear he's going to make you want to pick up the carving knife from the kitchen and make that smile bigger and deeper, right?**_

 _Hmm, I haven't thought about that before, but now that you've said it, yes I'd love nothing better. He has no right flirting with who's mine._

 _ **That's what I'm talking about.**_

"Save the flirtation, clown," Rachel hissed, suddenly defensive. "I know you'll might as well go ahead and leave my house now if you'll be doing that."

 _ **She's hot when she's mad. I'm on edge now if you are.**_

 _Shut up, pig._

Joker held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, okay, jeez, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you." Jonathan decided he'd had enough.

"Okay, stop." Both heads turned his way. "You guys, can we just put the fighting aside and have dinner together like other normal people?" _**Now that's funny, Jonny, calling yourself normal when you and Joker are not.**_

 _Be silent._

The evening passed by without any more verbal confrontation. Joker cheerfully bid them both a good night and left the apartment, yelling over his shoulder that he'd be back sometime. But Rachel only scowled and locked the door. "That man," he heard her mutter.

"Sorry he's like that," Jonathan apologized.

"It's not your fault." She reached to unbutton the black vest over her blouse and headed for her bedroom. "Where are you going?" Jonathan asked, following her.

"I need a shower," she replied.

 _ **Go ahead. You wanna join her? I know you do,**_ Scarecrow teased. "May I join?" he asked nervously.

She stuck her head out from the doorway. "If you want to."

In the bathroom, they both undressed and stepped into the shower. "I want to wash your hair again," she told him softly as she turned it on. Jonathan blushed, but nodded. _I wonder if she'll be babying me the whole time I'm here, and while I'm still pregnant,_ he thought, placing a hand on his still-flat abdomen.

~o~

Jonathan was so vulnerable now that they both knew he was expecting a baby. Another person watching him from afar would ask themselves how someone once high and mighty had fallen so far and became a wreck, but would they actually feel sympathy for him, or anything like she was feeling? "It's all right," she told him softly, pulling him into the shower with her, wrapping her arms around him briefly before releasing him. He stepped under the shower with a blank look on his face, still not a conversational person, even when she worked on him with her shampoo and conditioner, asking him to kneel for her, and he did it without a word. The whole time, she'd seen his wonderful body from the grace of his back and firm rear end, his lean thighs and all. The bruises were fading, but he needed some more meat on him with help from her cooking and a chance to sneak him away for some outside activity, bring more color to his pallid complexion.

His hair felt like silk between her fingers, even as she washed it out. His eyes closed and he moaned when he stood up for her to grab the body wash to massage his shoulders and back; out of habit, she could not help but move her body up against his and rub her growing moist against his left butt cheek, thoughts of protection and devotion on her mind.

~o~

Jonathan stiffened when he felt her buck herself against his ass cheek. He inhaled deeply, feeling the perfectly shaved mass between her legs rub against him. He wondered why he wasn't bothered by the sudden act. _**Maybe it's because it's her and not the bastard.**_

He would hear none of that tonight.

He leaned against Rachel. She smiled against his shoulder, arms wrapping around him. Nothing else mattered but her, not even the lukewarm water over them. "Thank you," he said softly.

They ignored wrapping up in towels and proceeded to the bedroom. She did the honors of pulling the covers down and guided him down first. He sighed pleasantly as the cool silk of the sheets touched the warmth of his back. But the girl above him distracted him by leaning over him, eyes never leaving his, her body touching his. It had been so long since he felt the warmth of her flesh against his body, skin rubbing against skin, hands roaming all over. He remembered every kiss, every touch, every caress…

Jonathan let out a sound that sounded somewhere between a moan and a sigh when he felt Rachel's fingers run through what remained of his pubes. Of course, he was growing it back, but it'd been two weeks since… _No,_ he reminded himself. _Think of her, not him_.

"I'm never going to leave you again, Jonathan," Rachel whispered in his ear, her breasts pressing against his chest.

 **The reference to Joker's joke about Jonathan's masculinity as well as the latter's offense was inspired by Joker'sOnlyFear's "Newfound Desires". I still laugh my ass off. XD**


	8. A Deadly Favor

**This chapter is where things REALLy get twisted. Another surprise in store, sort of based off of "On the Brink of Control" when Rachel REALLY changes. Although not the same persona she has in there; in fact, it's one we already know. ;) In a new, fresher way. This chapter is only the beginning.**

Chapter Eight

A Deadly Favor

The following night, Rachel drove home from work, with a lot on her mind. It had been nearly five months since Jonathan returned to her, since he'd been diagnosed by Harleen that he was pregnant. Nothing eventful happened, he was beginning to show and display all the symptoms such as cravings and nausea, bloated, and hitting the bathroom, the usual. He even got emotional sometimes...sometimes frightened. When asking him what scared him, he would say the name of the man who was the cause of this trouble.

Since his firing, Lyle Bolton hadn't been seen or heard from since the hearing. He'd been sighted a few times, but other than that, things were quiet. Some people wished he'd leave the city. But Rachel doubted he'd leave just like that. Especially after that look he gave her.

 _You should feel proud of yourself,_ her mind whispered to her. _You led the fight to get rid of the bastard who raped your man and knocked him up, who no doubt did the same to the others_. She shivered.

Rachel gazed out the window to watch the darkness illuminated by city lights. Things were improving a little better than they were before, now that Mayor Garcia was now considering passing the Dent Act - Van Dorn's idea - to keep criminals locked up for good, denied parole to keep the streets clean.

 _Criminals like Joker and Jonathan._

Dread froze her in her seat. If Jonathan was found by the law…

She would have to get him out of the city and fast. Put him someplace where no one would find him. Someplace like the countryside, but nowhere near Wayne Manor.

She drove her car to a stop, and she stood, bag already on her shoulder. She was relieved to not be on the train tonight. She remembered the night she first saw Batman - when she didn't know he was actually Bruce at the time - when he saved her from two thugs sent by Carmine Falcone to kill her. But since Harvey died, she and Bruce hadn't spoken much, and he'd always have a string of women on his arms.

 _A girl can never be too careful_ , she thought as she put a hand in her purse, clutching her taser as she looked around for trouble.

She felt an arm grab her and shove her against a wall. "Where you going, darling?" the man drawled, and she smelled the liquor on his breath. He had been drinking.

"Ugh, let me go." She tried to sound threatening and struggled away, but he only tightened his hold on her and laughed.

"Now that's a good girl." He leaned in close enough to kiss her, but his mouth never reached its destination, for he threw his head back and cried out just as the sound of a gunshot rang out. He let Rachel go and took off running, both hands clutching his rear end. Rachel laughed at the thought of someone shooting him in the ass.

"Excuse me, but that is not polite in these parts." She looked up to see her savior. It wasn't Bruce in his Batman suit because Batman never used guns, but a woman in a long black coat, her hair long and curling matching the color, but her face wasn't seen very well. "He hasn't harmed you further, has he?" She sounded like she had an accent, like Mid-Eastern.

"I'm fine. Who are you?" Rachel asked.

"If you do not mind, I prefer I not give you my name under these circumstances, Miss Dawes."

Rachel stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

The mystery woman shrugged as she put her handgun into her pocket. "Everyone knows the infamous Assistant DA known for…"

"Do _not_ finish that sentence," Rachel growled. _I've heard enough of people mentioning my history with Jonathan Crane to last a lifetime._

The stranger held both her hands up. "Very well. I didn't mean harm."

Rachel took her time to look her over again. "Who are you really? Are you one of our newest supervillains, or are you like the Batman?"

"Neither, Miss Dawes. But alas, I cannot reveal anything of myself, so do not pry again until the time is right. But I just wanted to give you some information."

Now she was interested. "Information on what?"

"Lyle Bolton. I must inform you that he hates you and knows that you have the Scarecrow with you, and he would love to get his hands on both of you personally. And don't ask me how I know. I know more than you possibly think." She turned around to leave.

"Wait!" Rachel cried, not wanting her to leave. Bolton hated her very much for his disgrace, knew of her relationship with Jonathan, so what else? "When will I see you again?"

"You won't expect to see me. I'll call on you when I see fit." By then, the woman in black was turning her back to Rachel and marching down the sidewalk and away from the complex.

~o~

Jonathan sighed heavily as he ran a hand over the six-month growth in his belly. _Sixth month now,_ he thought as he leaned back against the sofa, gazing at the TV screen, in which _Law and Order_ was on, and he waited for his love to come home.

 _I'm just tired of sitting here all day, doing nothing. It's so limited._

Scarecrow scoffed. _**Calm down already, will you? By the time the kid comes, you'll be back to yourself in no time. Back to work once we're away from Gotham.**_

He looked down at the place in his body where the little life was slumbering. All his life, he'd never considered having children, and his life had been dedicated to the mind's power over the body. But that had been taken from him. Now all he had was a secret life of relaxation and the beautiful woman who had just come home, supporting him even after all this time. Before, they'd had a shot which did not bode well, but now they were older and wiser, even though a fear years wasn't much time to pass.

"I'm home!" she called when she shrugged off her coat and dropped her purse on the counter. "How do you feel about me ordering in?"

He certainly could use something like pizza, if that was what she was thinking, like they did all the time in college. "Hawaiian?" he asked her wryly when she came into the living room. He watched her grin and wink as she crossed to the phone, telling him he'd read her mind, and as he watched her, his mind began to race as he tried to think of how to talk to her about their future plans.

 _ **Aww, Jonny, you're being chicken shit again. You should let me take over for you; you haven't let me do that for awhile.**_

 _As much as I want to, it should be ME to tell her. This is between her and I._

 _ **She could very much yell at you and get you hormonal. You're becoming more of a woman every day.**_

Jonathan gasped aloud in spite of himself, making Rachel turn around and frown at him as she spoke on the phone. He straightened up and cleared his throat, but that didn't erase the suspicion on her face even as she finished up and pulled her credit card from her wallet to read the numbers aloud. When the order was taken, she gave him her full attention.

"Jonathan, what is with you?"

 _ **Spit it out, Casanova. You got her attention; you know she'll get it out of you.**_ "I was just...thinking more about our life after the baby comes and we get away from Gotham," he answered, trying to smile but couldn't. "I thought about...Chicago, if that won't be a problem." Chicago was a big city, so no one knew about Gotham's Rogues besides the overrunning crime in the streets, and besides, someone could very much pronounce him dead in a matter of time.

But Rachel was still looking at him questioningly. "Didn't we already talk about Chicago, Jonathan? You're not telling me something."

Might as well. "What do you want me to do once we get there? I can't teach classes anymore; I'm not the man who teaches anymore. I do better than that," he insisted. "I don't follow behind anyone's shadow any longer, and I won't throw away what I love most for the sake of society."

Her body whirled around then, her face suddenly harder than before. "Jonathan, you're talking about going back to experimenting on unwilling people. I won't let you do that."

She was trying to stop him! He couldn't stand because he felt so heavy even though it was only six months along. "You're not stopping me, Rachel. I thought you understood now," he accused her. _Apparently not, because I'm pregnant now._

"I DO understand," she said heatedly, exasperated, "but a child is coming into the picture. Do you expect to be caught again like last time, tossed into rehab again, perhaps tried and taken away from your family? You really want that to happen to US?"

Of course he didn't, but she couldn't stop him; he was a man who made his own choices, and he was willing to do anything for her now. And now that a baby was coming, he would do the same. "No, of course I don't! But I'm a man, Rachel! You're not going to stop me from what I'd dedicated my entire life to. Studying fear is my life, and I'll might as well write a book about it!" _**Now that's a way to make it partly legit,**_ Scarecrow said with a grin. _**Maybe someone will read and accept, then help you with your research, declare it a breakthrough. You always wanted that.**_

Rachel looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. "Writing a book sounds like it's the answer, and if that's what it takes to accept your research far away from Gotham..."

"Then it's a start," he answered, finally smiling and feeling better. "I need my wife's support."

He took her aback yet again, and a grin appeared. "Don't you mean ex-wife?"

"Not anymore. We can start over again. Not being married won't be enough."

She walked over and sat down beside him. "If you're asking me to marry you again, then the answer is yes. After we've left Gotham, we can have a bigger wedding than before, I'll get a new dress..."

It sounded all wonderful, but there was just one main problem to worry about. "But what about the baby?" he asked, concerned. "I haven't had the best childhood since my mother died. My father was all I had until the police killed him. But I know for sure I don't want it killed..." If anything, taking an innocent life was not on his watch. His father's love of the kill was never on his hands or in his genes. "Because my father did that, and I swore I'd never be like him, but it's easier said than done."

Her arms were around him as she pulled him close. "You're _not_ your father."

~o~

If she had thought about getting married again, it would not involve lace at all in her new dress. Her last one had been misplaced after she moved out of Jonathan's old apartment; she had been so busy packing up that she'd forgotten about it like she did a couple other things, but it was too late to turn back. The police had ransacked that place after he was arrested, so her old wedding ring had to be gone, too.

Her first initial thought had been that she wanted to stay true to herself and go back to their old theme which had signified who they were, but there had to be plenty of fish in the sea for a fresher start the second time around.

No lace had been the first agenda on her mind, like she'd just said. They'd been young and innocent then, so they were moving forward for the sake of their future. After getting home from work today, Rachel was now browsing for wedding dresses the next night. She'd had plenty of time to think it over in a day, even getting snapped at by Janet Van Dorn for not paying attention to a word she said sometimes, but it was worth it.

They said searching for the gown first set the foundation. Her first option had been this fabulous ballgown with tons of sparkle in the bodice. The skirt was majestic tulle draping romantically, but on second thought, Rachel wasn't sure. She kept it saved to go back later.

The next one was soft and understated organza, ruched and draping like the first, but without any sparkle. It looked ethereal, but it was too simple for her eyes. Moving on, she decided a ballgown was too big for outdoors. _Maybe a mermaid or a fit and flare. As long as there little to no lace..._

Sadly, there were so many lace options, or lace dominating much of satin or organza - until one promising caught her attention. This one was slim-fitting, sculpted satin to accentuate the curves, and the straps were delicate satin. This was gorgeous, but for some reason it was too simple...

Her breath was knocked out when she saw yet another. The jackpot was hit. _Oh. My. God._

~o~

 _ **Things are looking up, eh, Jonny?**_ Scarecrow cheered.

 _Yes, they are,_ Jonathan replied as he browsed Rachel's computer for what he was looking for, as well as snacking on peanut butter and jelly with blackberry and mint tea. When he and Harleen had gone over the stages of pregnancy, she had explained that he'd be going through food cravings, which was perfectly normal as she'd put it. It could be just about anything, anything strange. After the baby was born, he'd go back to normal.

He hated peanut butter and jelly, to be honest, for he thought it too simple, but the blasted pregnancy hormones rendered him helpless and without a choice. He laughed humorlessly. The tea was something, however, that he and Rachel had in common.

His attention stopped short upon the most beautiful ring he'd ever seen. It literally rivaled the sparkle and fire of any other gem he'd ever seen. _Exquisite and simple at the same time. And all diamonds._

And then he heard _her_ voice in the background.

"Yeah, he's doing fine so far." He shifted in his seat. Rachel was talking about him. But to who, and why? "But you know, Harleen, I can't keep him here much longer. I have to find someplace safe for him. You know Janet's gone far too extreme."

 _ **Harleen. She's talking to the good doctor.**_

 _Hush. Let me listen._ He felt his throat tighten. _Does she want me gone, out of here? After what we've been through?_

 _ **Aw, come on, Jonny. Don't overreact. You know she likes you too much to kick you out just like that for no reason.**_

"I thought about someplace out in the countryside but as far from the Palisades as possible. Safe away from the city until we sort this mess out with Janet."

 _ **Sounds like the DA is going crazier with her little crusade.**_

"Harleen, you know you're the only one I trust with this. You know how I feel for him, and I promised him I'd do everything I could to keep him safe." She paused to let him speak for a moment, before finally responding herself. "You've done the same for me when I was in distressful moments. I could turn to Bruce, but he wouldn't understand."

Jonathan knew he'd heard enough and quickly returned to the gorgeous engagement ring on the computer screen. He knew this was the one for her, and he'd looked everywhere else for her for the last couple days. He saved it for the cart and quickly logged off. He knew he didn't have any money and couldn't use his real name, so he had no choice but to use her credit card…when she wasn't looking, of course. It was wrong and sneaky, but there were no other options.

But he couldn't do it now because she was around now. He'd have to wait until late in the night to sneak out of the bed. After the order was made, he'd receive it in three days' time.

~o~

Rachel smiled at the bold ring she'd bought Jonathan three weeks later, knowing he'd love it. It was a crow in sterling silver amid a genuine background of black onyx set into a silver frame; set above the crow was a solitaire diamond. _Onyx to help heal old griefs and sorrows_ , she thought as she paid for it and placed it in her purse and left.

On the way to the train, the freezing air gave her a sense that she was _again_ being followed. _Oh, what could be wrong this time?_ she asked herself in annoyance. This time, her taser was in her jacket pocket to spare just a little trouble of fumbling in her bag for it. Her hand slipped into her pocket.

"Well, well, look who's here." She froze in her tracks at the sight of a familiar large man. A face she hadn't expected to see after the trial at Arkham.

"Lyle Bolton," she said coldly. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckled, stepping out of the shadows, and she gasped quietly. His large frame sported armor of iron complete with black in places, and his face was covered by a black mask that revealed his eyes.

"Thought I'd settle my score with the little ADA bitch who destroyed my career," he growled viciously.

Fear ate her heart at once. She knew she was in deeper trouble than she was with the Joker when she was bound with the oil drums in the warehouse. She kept her eyes on him but said nothing.

"And after I'm done with you, your 'Scarecrow' lover at your home is next."

Heart wrenching fear became overwhelming panic. _Jonathan! No, no, no! How - how did he know about Jonathan? And what is he going to do? That woman warned me; why didn't I heed sooner?_ "How did you know?" Rachel finally found her voice, taking a step backward.

Bolton laughed, following her steps. "Let's just say, my dear, that there is only one person that monster would go to."

"Don't call him that. He's no monster. _You are!"_ Rachel found herself close to shouting at the top of her lungs.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me a monster?"

He now stood over her, and she felt her confidence slowly fading. "I saw how you treated your prisoners at the asylum. Scared, mercilessly tortured without a care in the world. You did the same to Jonathan, the one man I ever loved with my heart and soul."

"You mean to say that you actually have _feelings_ for that little whore, Miss Dawes?" Bolton asked in disbelief. "You must be just as sick as he is. You might actually have Stockholm Syndrome as the media and the people claimed you did."

His arrogant taunts forced her temper to rise with a vengeance. Her hand, palm wide open, swept up and cracked against his face with the force and sound of a whiplash. Too late, she realized her mistake when his face came back to meet hers.

"You're going to pay for that, bitch," he hissed. Rachel trailed her eyes down, and they widened when she saw what was in his gloved hand.

A syringe.

She turned to run, but then a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her against the armored body and threw her to the ground with it. She struggled under Bolton's equally ironed grasp, but he laughed, knocking her purse and taser out of her hand, then ripping her blue blouse open to reveal her white bra over her perfect breasts. She shivered under the fire in his eyes.

"I'm afraid I can't risk you getting in my way, Miss Dawes," he purred against her ear. "I've spent weeks preparing for all this, preparing to bring you and your friends down. So first things first…"

 _No!_ She tried to get away one last, feeble time before she felt the needle jammed into her artery. This time she screamed.

"Jonathan," she moaned in despair to the dark sky. "Jonathan…"

Fire burned through her veins, and she continued to sob in anguish. All she could think of was Jonathan alone in her apartment, waiting for her to come home. Unknowing that she was suffering a fate far worse than just death itself.

Horror filled her once more when she felt Bolton rip her bra away and pushed her skirt up and began to work on her underwear. _Please, oh, please no…not to me, not like Jonathan._ Her head spun madly, forcing her to the end of consciousness.

But it happened. She still heard the demon's voice.

"Your precious _Dr._ Crane…" he sneered, taking her brutally on the cold ground of the alley. "…won't mind what he doesn't know. You losing it, and you won't feel a thing. So delicate and fragile…just like he was."

His horrible hands crushed her breasts, roughly and without meaning but sick, twisted lust…unlike Jonathan's meaningful caresses and desirable love. Each thrust was painful, as painful as the fire in her bloodstream.

She barely felt it end when he finally released and let her go, leaving her half-nude on the ground. She barely heard his words:

"My little potion worked well, I see, slut. Just something I took from the oleander flower. Beautiful species, but deadly poisons. A real _heart-stopper_."

Her vision blurred, and the last things she heard before she blacked out were: "Crane will see you in hell soon, Miss Rachel Dawes. This is exactly the punishment you both deserve."

Jonathan's sorrowful icy blue eyes consumed her mind and behind her blind eyes that she forced closed, longing for his arms around her and the baby bump against her. Her body was engulfed by the loss of circulation, slowly falling into the deep pit that was unconsciousness, deciding that it was best for her to die then live and see what Lyle Bolton would do to her beloved and the child.

 **God, it was hard to do. But there's the start of it all: Bolton poisoned Rachel, raped her and left her to die - but that's not the end of it. The actual poison he spoke of also came from a real flower of the same name, effects including the heart stopping. The keyword being poison should give a hint as to what will happen to Rachel.**

 **Meanwhile, poor pregnant Jonathan, waiting for his beloved to come home, not knowing that Lyle Bolton - now Lock-Up - is on the way. Things are getting hotter.**


	9. Rise of the Vixen

**I noticed how no one has reviewed since the end of chapter six, and it upsets me greatly, when all they're probably focused on is the mpreg. I'm not forcing anyone, but can't anyone look past it and see the depths like I said before? There ALWAYS has to be a way to care about the characters and situations. I myself am known to push boundaries to make it work. Please, if anyone has anything to say that isn't flames, don't hestitate to speak of what became of Rachel and anything else.**

Chapter Nine

Rise of the Vixen

The gift came, and Jonathan was more than happy. He tore open the package and examined the contents inside the dark green velvet box with vigor and awe. _She's going to love this._

 _ **Yeah. Does this mean another formal proposal is in order?**_

 _She already said yes, remember?_

 _ **True, but to get on your knees like you did the first time...**_

 _I doubt there's need for that. We're older and wiser, so there's no need to stand on tradition anymore._

Jonathan gazed down at the emerald-cut icy gemstone sided by two leaf-semblance bezels, stroking it with one finger affectionately. The wedding band that came with it was sweet as the little peas in her garden, ridged gently and set with three round diamonds. "I don't want to lose you, don't want to risk us parted again, Rachel." He looked down at the roundness of his abdomen, caressing it with his other hand with affection. "I want you to help me raise this little one." Setting it down on the nightstand beside the bed, he walked over to the bedroom window and gazed up at the night sky. It was nearing nine, and Rachel still wasn't home. He frowned, worrying what was taking her. Could Van Dorn be keeping her late again?

He opened the window to let the cool air wash over him. "Please hurry home, my little flower," he called out in a whisper.

He barely relished what happened next when something was thrown into his face, a thick gray blast of smoke… _gas_. He panicked without hesitation at what was happening.

He was being abducted.

Jonathan reached for something, his shirt, cloth - anything - while holding his breath, but the gas proved stronger, and his head swam. _I'm being taken away again. From her. Again, after we swore never to be separated again. Oh, God, oh, God…Rachel…my baby…_

All he could see was darkness and feeling himself fall to hit the floor. His words aloud was the moan of her name, "Rachel…"

~o~

Rachel slowly opened her eyes, awareness coming back, which confused her. Wasn't the venom _he_ administered supposed to kill her? She heard and felt herself cough and tried to rise when a hand on her shoulder gently eased her back down. A familiar voice spoke to her softly - that accented voice of that strange woman outside her apartment a month ago.

"Rest, Rachel. You were poisoned. There are no more traces in your system; I drained enough of your blood until you needed a transfusion."

She hardly remembered anything other than the adrenaline pumping as something horrible violated what belonged to one man and one man only, her body burning with what he gave her before that, finishing using her before leaving her like she was discarded trash. All for revenge at her campaign against him. After that, it was just nothing but time lost and darkness. And then the woman's voice was speaking to her again. "You're safe away from him. He's gone, the man who raped and poisoned you. I was following you this entire time, keeping an eye on you, and I rescued you and revived you."

Rachel's eyes had felt like lead that she felt them lighten enough for her to blink and look up. Now she had a better look at her mysterious contact and savior. A stunningly exotic young woman who looked somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, face set with blue eyes and framed by shoulder-length brown curls, dressed in a sparkling, embroidered golden caftan over a simple white dress. "My name is Talia."

"Talia..." Her lips felt like they were dry, but when she licked them, they were smooth as she remembered, and still moist, which was so strange. "Bolton..."

"Gone, as I said. He succeeded in overpowering you, but I was impressed with your strength."

She turned her head away from the other woman. "But he still won. He did to me what he did to the man I love, the man I was married to once before, the man who was accused of kidnapping me and..."

Talia cut her off gently, brushing some hair out of her face that had fallen over her eyes. "But you still have a chance. You can correct this unforgiveable act of monstrosity. But now, Bolton has found your lover. I know you want to kill the man responsible, finish what the justice system can't do anymore. Take back what was taken from you and your lover."

There was no mistaking the meaning behind Talia's words. She knew Rachel wanted to kill Lyle Bolton for everything he did to her and Jonathan - and for the other inmates who didn't deserve it, as much as those people were scum - and how right she was. A part of her said killing wasn't justification, but the stronger side she never knew she had until now began to take over. She was doing this not only for herself, but for another whose life had been ruined by one man in the very place he once ran, the evil in which something good had come from - but it never erased the pain Jonathan had gone through. It brought her back to years ago after Joe Chill was killed after his hearing for the robbery and murder of Bruce's parents, when Bruce wanted to kill the man and disgusted her.

"I have to stop Bolton. What if he kills the unborn child?"

Talia shook her head. "I doubt it, but he will keep them both alive as long as he wishes, for unknown reasons to myself. He thinks he killed you, might as well tell your lover this, but you can always surprise him," she told Rachel with a small smile when the latter finally turned to look at her again. However, based on recent events, Bolton could overpower her again.

"I'm not strong enough to fight him, Talia," she protested, which fell on deaf ears and a shaking head.

"Of course not, Rachel. You have fire, you have anger and all sorts of powerful emotions that I possess in myself. I'll show you how to use them. My father trained me and your friend, Bruce Wayne, a long time ago."

The mention of Bruce and a "father" made her bolt upwards, Talia not restraining her this time. _Oh, my God...her father..._ "You were Ra's al Ghul's daughter. The man who tried to destroy Gotham."

"The man serving true justice," Talia said frostily. "That was the purpose of the League of Shadows for this fallen city. That is why I am here, to clean it up, but for now, my attention has befallen on you. I knew Jonathan Crane for a time as he worked for my father, but we never spoke a word. He was a good man, a brilliant man, but my father could not trust him in on his plans for the city, knowing the good doctor would back out eventually. But that time is passed; my father is gone, murdered by your friend, the Batman. You know I am telling the truth, Rachel, about corruption. You want to save it, but the way the government you serve has not made it better despite the act named for your murdered Harvey Dent."

Rachel became afraid now, because Bruce had warned her about the League of Shadows, which Talia, the daughter of his former mentor turned enemy, noticed, and raised a hand to cup her cheek, turning her face back to her. "Rachel, don't deny the truth. This city is broken, and you have so far not managed to rise above those to protect it yourself. Even the Batman has not finished his quest; there are new faces coming in every day. Look at the Joker. Look at Lyle Bolton...and look at what he's done to you."

She held up a vintage handheld mirror out to her. Seeing Rachel's confused face at the action, she explained, "The poison has left a very surprising effect on you. Look at your new face; do not be afraid." The mirror was gorgeous, looking like it came from the 1930's era. Its frame was surrounded by intricate brass work with hand-painted gold flowers against a blue background with some green streaks. But when she turned it over…

"Oh, God no," she whispered in horror. "No..."

She looked…hideous. Grotesque.

Her face had the same nose, lips, eyes and all, but her skin was another story. Gone was the pure creamy complexion she was so proud of, that Jonathan loved kissing and caressing, replaced by an otherworldly foundation of icy ivory blushed with barely-there aqua green. Instead of the regular blue and red veins, sported on her narrow neck were nasty veins of green, crawling up and around like ivy vines on a pillar. Her lips were a dark shade of pink.

 _Ugly. Ugly. Ugly._

 _He did this to me. Bolton did this to me._

She turned her eyes away from the detestable visage and collapsed against the mattress of the small bed she lay in, screaming and wrapping her arms around herself, Talia watching her with sympathy. But she paid her no attention in her agony and self-loathing. No one would look at her the same way they did before now, just spit at her and call her a monster.

"Let it all out, Rachel," Talia whispered to her but not touching her. "Relish your anger and hatred at the man who brought this onto you, who deserves what will come to him, that the law could not see or prevent. You know this to be true. You fought battles in court you lost numerous times; there were times you came so close to winning only to lose in the end. But not if you embrace your new face now to your advantage and seek out true justice. If you can't be who you are with the hypocrites called society, then leave them. Do what is necessary, like my father always used to say."

Yes, it made her think of all the innocent people she wanted to protect, and that hadn't changed. She dedicated her whole life to that, but the system failed despite her being a part of it, being one of the last few good people like Gordon and the Batman, and Harvey before he was murdered. No matter what she tried and did, it would always be the same.

That led to one inescapable conclusion: if the law and the police force, half of them being paid off by the mob as it was, could not protect the people of Gotham, and if Batman couldn't always be there, then there was one person left. That was her, the one person who experienced the dark side of life that didn't involve her parents being killed. She'd been married once to a man called a criminal because of misunderstanding, now she would have gotten married to him again if it weren't for the terrors following them at every corner...and if it weren't for her wrongfully diagnosed with Stockholm Syndrome, a fancy medical lingo for something deeper than a mere fairytale or mind-control method. A seed planted that kept growing and growing until the roots were too deep to pull.

Jonathan's life had been destroyed long before they crossed paths in high school; she never once thought that his father was more cuckoo in the clock than she thought. But she'd been a teenager then and was still trying to make sense of it. But his traumas evolved him into who he was now...as hers had done the same. He'd used his Scarecrow half and his dark passion to walk past the boundaries like they didn't exist, so she would have to do the same - even if it meant shedding her old life for good.

Because of that, she now loathed the people who rejected her behind her back, for the way she and Jonathan had been found that fateful night. Naked, in bed together...but they knew NOTHING of their feelings, the animalistic bliss and unbridled passion rekindled. _NOTHING!_

Jonathan was more of a man than she knew he was when they were younger, more than everyone knew he was. He honored himself and her, he was more brilliant than any other doctor in the world, he told everyone to back off in his own way, he shunned it all long ago, but all he had was her. And for that, she was ready to have him let her in on his world like he should have a long time ago.

"I can see it off of you...and I can smell it," Talia said above her. "You believe me now...and you believe that you can't change the justice system any more than you can stop the planets from orbit. You want to become a face to be feared, to be respected...to make a difference in history."

By making a difference in history, it meant becoming something else that she had never been. Her lover and his unborn child were in danger, and she was ready to become a new Rachel Dawes altogether.

~o~

He sat huddled in the corner of the room he'd been locked into, naked as the day he was born. But he hadn't been touched…yet. But he knew it would come. The man over him was grinning like the devil he was that his father said did not exist, as God didn't in the name of science. But the devil meant other things, like as a metaphor for the torture of the mind and inner self. How true they were. "Please, don't hurt me," he whispered, failing to hold himself together. He wished Rachel was here, or for once, the Batman. At least it was better than no one at all.

But if not, then he was as good as dead, the baby with him. He wanted to pull his legs all the way up to his chest, but the sixth-month bulge prevented that. _Oh, God, this fear isn't good for the baby,_ he thought to Scarecrow.

"You just thought you could hide forever from me, Crane," Bolton growled, leaning down and grabbing him by the hair, making him yelp and pull him to his feet. "But you had to run back to your little whore. And I lost my job over you and the rest of those pathetic fools at the asylum. That bitch of yours was the cause of it all. But you know what?" His leer made him close his eyes, but even that didn't block out his words.

"I took care of her. She ain't a problem anymore."

Jonathan managed to lift his face back up in time for him to be pinned to the wall against his back. _No, no, not again_. "Don't," he begged.

Bolton just laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to punish you. Not yet anyway. Not when you got this." He ran a large, meaty hand over that firm belly, making Jonathan whimper.

 _The baby,_ he thought to Scarecrow in fear. _He_ _knows about the baby._

 _ **Ah, don't worry, Jonny. I'm here. I won't let him harm you two.**_

 _What good will that do?_

 _ **Let me take control,**_ was the simple answer.

 _No, not now at this time._

"How is it possible…that you have this little round belly? Was it me, or another I can't know of?" Jonathan only glared at him, refusing to tell him, refusing to give up what he still had of his dignity. This only made Bolton angrier. "Very well. Don't tell me. I suppose I should continue and say that I took care of your little lady love. If I hadn't already." Those depthless, emotionless eyes twinkled with glee.

Jonathan didn't need that much time to absorb what he was saying. _He…Rachel…he killed her?_ As if he heard what he was thinking, Bolton grinned. "You'll never believe what I did to her, Crane. Grabbed that little thing and pinned her on the ground like a pretty picture by a nail. Tore open what hid her tasty assets and had fun with her like I did with you. And I must say, she was so soft, so slick and tight…just like you always were."

Jonathan felt the bile rise at the foul images of the fat pig above him touching Rachel - _his_ _Rachel_ \- abusing her, using her, and then…

"And then I released the toxins of the lovely oleander flower into her delicious body. The last performance of the show before I left her to rot. You can say that she might have been thinking of you when she faded like every other flower would with the coming of winter."

 _She's dead. My Rachel is dead._ Jonathan felt the tears sting his eyes. _She's gone. She's gone._ He felt like screaming out to a god he didn't know existed, but he would not let her murderer see his pain. All he could do was voice it to his subconscious.

 _She said she'd never leave me. She said she wouldn't let me out of her sight. But no. The world is cruel. There's no one else out there for me. No hope, no nothing. I'd rather die here than live out there alone_.

 _ **Don't think like that, crybaby. Think about the kid inside you.**_

He had forgotten about that. _Oh, I don't know what to do anymore. I want it alive and safe and away, but it seems impossible now._

He felt Bolton's weight leave him, let him slide to the floor, but that did not make him feel any better. Rachel was dead. And he was alone, again. He would always be alone, always and everywhere for the rest of his life. Stifling sobs, he barely heard his captor.

"Don't get too comfortable. I'll do what I can to keep you and that little brat you're carrying alive and healthy, but in the end…there's going to be something far worse than death in store for you both."

The door then slammed shut and locked.

~o~

Whatever was left of the poisons in her system, she felt stronger than before. Stronger than she'd been in her life. She still wore the same dress that she'd been dressed in while undergoing her horrific physical transformation, a simple light aqua-blue wrap around with her feet bare, hair tumbling wild. Her senses were on alert at every corner. The room was dark save for only a few candles lit, but for some reason, she was not afraid. This was one of the traditional ways of training in the art of the ninja. Bruce had told her of this once.

And Ra's al Ghul had always asked this question to every newcoming disciple he accepted into the League of Shadows, which his daughter was now in charge of. "Tell me what you seek," Talia's voice whispered from somewhere that Rachel could not see her. She was hiding somewhere, being her teacher in this and her starting opponent. Training would be much more than just self-defense she took in high school.

"The means to fight the evil in the world, turn their powers of fear against them," she said readily, her voice hollow to her own ears. "Should I always be ready for any move that comes?"

"Yes. You must always be ready for unseen jabs in the dark, in every corner you turn. You should never take any empty spot too lightly; that is a weakness your enemies will use against you. That will always get you maimed or killed. But your opponent will not wait for you..."

The voice was behind her, but her body was ready and anticipated. Rachel whirled in time for a fist to come down; she dodged it by ducking, then swung her leg out to kick Talia off her feet. In response, the other woman twisted her body around so she was on her feet again. "That was a good one, but to remain on your back will render you vulnerable for a killing stroke." _Well, in that case -_ Rachel hissed and leaped to her feet, staggering back as another blow was aimed for her, but she regained her footing and raised both her fists as she crouched, waiting for her rival to follow her.

"It's as my father always said," Talia went on, gracefully advancing on her, "you face death everywhere you go in the battle for justice. No fair ground rules, no wait, and absolutely no patience. There is never mercy involved between you and the ones you face."

The other woman delivered an unexpected kick Rachel should have expected as instructed. As a consequence, she was struck in the abdomen, and was sent onto her back. When she was down yet again, she rolled over and regained herself, flipping over Talia's head and then backwards until she resumed her stance, which impressed her instructor.

"You have more than I anticipated in you, Miss Dawes," she purred. "You lost control when Mr. Bolton took you, when you couldn't save yourself from everyone you faced, but no matter. I'll teach you how to master your strength, and in time it will be _you_ to make them fear you."

This went on for the next three months, but beginning with the morning after her first, Rachel went back home, hiding her face the best she could, but when she got home, Joker was there asking for Jonathan, so she sat down and told him everything, to which he angrily declared that he'd do whatever he could to help her kill Bolton. Truth was that she didn't actually need his help, but he insisted, because Jonathan meant so much to him because he was his best friend. For the first time, Rachel admitted she liked the Joker, even though there was so much about him that was still a mystery.

Women in the martial arts accepted inflicted wounds without trouble; Talia had always done so herself, so Rachel was forced to do the same. Normally, her body was fragile and sensitive with injuries, but as time passed, she welcomed them like an addiction that was both good and wrong at the same time because it was a release of tension for her.

As for her appearance, she'd acquired help from Joker for a supply of paint safe for the skin, and the shade he'd stolen for her was close enough to match her old skin tone, and not only did it hide the pale-and-aqua complexion, it also hid the veins in her neck perfectly. He'd even given her enough to put on during the day during breaks.

She even began to use more than guns, which she was very good at, but as she learned from Talia, guns were not always great trusted "allies". A blade of either a knife or sword came in handy. Very quick and agile without a sound. She felt even more powerful with it as she slashed through the air, clashed with Talia's, and by the time she mastered it, Talia gave her a customized set for herself.

The bladework was masterfully light, shining brighter than sterling silver. The handle itself was black, the pommel set with gold and carved with vines swirling similar to a Celtic form. She acquired a few cuts on her hands and arms sometimes, even worse pain than just bruises, but she could not bring herself to shed a tear. Tears were a weakness; she was a fast learner, her emotions becoming harder than her body was slowly growing.

"You're becoming more worthy of a member of the League of Shadows, Rachel," Talia noted at the end of their most recent session as she helped Rachel clean her cuts. She was skilled as a healer, having done so on her own as she'd grown up in the wilderness. "If my father were here, he would have told you what I did. You're stronger than you look, a strength you never knew you had, brought out by the venom in your veins that has increased since you began your crusade against the predators around you. You're far more intelligent than you thought, and that alone is even more powerful a gift than just physical strength. You've not only mastered the art of the ninja, but you also have mastered invisibility, theatricality and deception. They are powerful agents to the uninitiated, like yourself had been once long ago. Now you have become something unstoppable that I have taken the time to give you, as the time is coming near."

She stood and walked over to the table where the lovely antique box was. Rachel had noticed it when she came to this unused apartment in the city, not that far from Wayne Tower. "Open it," she said when Rachel came to stand beside her, and when she did, Rachel gasped.

On top was a half-mask of burlap crawling with knotworks of green vines, and beside it were a pair of arm braces she remembered the Batman wearing; they more deadly looking spikes on either side. Beneath it was so much more, and Talia turned away from her to leave her to search through and dress in the costume made specially for her. "I'm ready," Rachel said when she saved the mask for last but didn't put it on yet. Talia turned around and smiled when she looked at Rachel from head to foot.

"Magnificent."

The corset was dark green leather, zipping up in the back and smooth in the front save for the lacework down the middle, baring her midriff, the pants tight and accentuating her curves. Her bare arms sported the bracers that made her feel flexible instead of heavy. Every inch of her musculature from three months of every day training were accentuated perfectly. Her hair ran wild and free on either side of her face, the dark green of her costume perfect with her new skin. "Rachel, put that mask on and look at yourself now." Talia was holding up the mirror again when Rachel obeyed and then took the mirror for herself, smiling instead of gasping, feeling the rush of freedom that was unmistakable. "Tell me how you feel."

"Are there truly any words to do it justice?" Rachel asked with a grin. "Invigorating."

"You'll need a name for yourself then. I believe I know the perfect one for you. This is a name people fear when they encounter it in nature, daring to touch it if they want to be infected with pain. Beautiful on the outside but harboring a deadly surprise."

Both the words and the look of herself, namely the green veins popping out around her neck and arms all added to two words:

 _Poison Ivy._

 **So it is RACHEL who becomes Poison Ivy. :D I had it planned since the beginning, so there you go. I hope I satisfied you all.**

 **In "On the Brink of Control" in similar fashion - like when Ra's trained Bruce - Ra's somehow survived the monorail crash and came back from the dead, saw Rachel's potential to fight injustice, helped her become the Wolf of Gotham in nearly the same way he trained Bruce. As her final test, she killed the same man who tried to attack her one night and would have done the same to another girl. Even after she was rescued by GCPD from Jonathan, when she returned, her views on society as well as back to the Joe Chill events were no different than in here.**

 **This time around, keeping true to that, I thought Talia, Ra's' daughter, had to be the one to train Rachel since her father IS dead. If Rachel is going to fight, she needs what Batman has from the League; not just from "On the Brink of Control", but common sense speaking. I also tried not to make the sessions too much like Ra's and Rachel in "Control", but with the lectures Talia gives, it makes sense that she would follow her father's footsteps in passing them down on to new disciples to come, even be the one to give Rachel her new identity.**

 **In case anyone didn't know, Pamela Isley - the original Poison Ivy - was seduced by her botany professor and injected with an animal-plant toxin as part of an experiment, which resulted in her skin turning green, like it happened with Rachel. Now Rachel is super pissed and armed with ninjitsu weaponry and combat skills, ready to kill the man responsible for her transformation and the abduction of her lover. R and R!**


	10. What to Do?

**The episode "Lock-Up" from BTAS serves as part of this story with the abduction of certain people involved in Bolton's firing at the hearing, but it's not main to the entire story.**

 **I tried to PM ToryTigress who wrote "On the Brink of Control" just to tell her how much her story was wonderful inspiration while it lasted, but unfortunately, no response yet. I just hope she loves this and the influence as much as you guys do.**

Chapter Ten

What to Do?

Rachel returned to her apartment after a long day of cases handed to her by Van Dorn. She looked around in sadness to see that she was in fact still alone. It broke her heart to know that she'd been alone all this time once more.

She walked to her bedroom to change clothes and take a bath, maybe slice up some lemons and oranges to soothe the ache in her heart. Three months gone, which meant that Jonathan, wherever he was being kept by Lyle Bolton, was now in his final month of pregnancy. _Just about close to giving birth._

What worried her was that Bolton had discovered Jonathan's hermaphrodite biology and that he was pregnant with the sicko's offspring. _If he has…oh, God, then Jonathan and the baby are in serious trouble._

She stripped off her clothes in the bathroom, and took a moment to look at herself again in the mirror. Besides the vine-like veins in her neck, there were more all over both her lower arms and a few on both forearms, and over her legs and ankles. Her body was toned, her breasts perky as ever. Her womanhood curls were still as dark as her hair, but tinted with mossy green. She was no longer bothered, but a new question came to light:

What would Jonathan say, what would he _think_ , if he saw her now?

She cleaned herself up without another glance at herself, and simply threw on her favorite island-themed satin robe. Rachel felt like sleeping naked tonight, just because she felt like it.

However, the moment she walked over to the right side of the bed, something caught her eye. She walked over. It was a small box of green velvet that she'd discovered the next day after her first training session, that Joker had found before she came home. Two rings. Both brilliant silver, the engagement one centered with a glamorously emerald-cut diamond glittering like ice, the wedding band a unique ridgework sweet as little flowers.

"Guess Jonny wanted to ask you as soon as ya got home," the clown had said as soon as he handed it to her. He shrugged then. "Which stinks because after everything, you two were finally working out.

She wanted to collapse then to the floor, cry harder than she had ever done so, like when she first woke up from death, clutch the rings closer to her heart, scream to the high heavens and curse Lyle Bolton, Janet Van Dorn, and all those who took everything from her. Joker was the exception since she'd forgiven him. Wishing Jonathan was here, except he wasn't.

Now she was looking at the ring again, both of them, seeing the promise of a brighter future. _Things always get worse before they get better,_ her mind reminded her. _You will find him soon._

She crawled onto the bed and curled up, holding the ring box close to her, closing her eyes and wishing sleep would come...

"Sleeping now won't be the best option, beautiful."

She jumped up and curled up, bringing her knees to her chest. Damn, that clown! "Damn it, Joker, you never know when to knock before you come in, do you?!" she said angrily. "You could have been the Batman!" If Bruce saw her like this, who knew how he'd feel, assume she'd become another crazy because of her looks.

He laughed shrilly and held up both hands. "Don't be mad at me, darling. I just thought you'd like to hear some good news. Two days ago, I had one of my best men hunt down Lyle Bolton..."

Hearing _his_ name, she relaxed. _He's found him; he's found him!_ her mind was shouting with joy, and she jumped off her bed at once. "What?! What did you find?"

"Wait, wait, hold your horses; I wasn't finished. My guy has been hunting him down for the last three months, meeting dead ends here and there, and I was about to kill him myself before he finally gave me a lead. He took Jonny to the Narrows."

She froze on the spot. _The Narrows...of course! How come it wasn't obvious before?_ "Where did Bolton take him exactly?"

"Before I answer that, toots, you oughtta know Jonny isn't the only prisoner he has. He took that reporter Summer Gleeson whom I noticed your friend Wayne is dating, as well as Gordon. Seems he's getting his revenge on _everyone_ involved in his career broken down - probably kill them all in the end."

~o~

Jonathan groaned as he reclined on the sofa in the room he had been locked into for the last three months. Sunlight poured in from the small windows so high above his head that he couldn't climb up to them and reach them. Obviously Bolton knew he'd try to escape and took extreme measures to make sure he didn't.

Jonathan scowled. Where would he go? And most of all, _who_ would he go to? His Rachel - fierce, strong, determined, beautiful Rachel - was dead. Or at least, that was Bolton told him. Which made his alter ego, Scarecrow, snort in disbelief.

 _ **You still actually believe that son of a bitch?**_

 _I don't know,_ Jonathan admitted. _I wasn't there and you know it_.

 _ **It's been three months since you were taken from her. Once again. And did you see who he brought in just this morning?**_ He guided Jonathan's gaze to the security cameras that Bolton had installed in his "room" and forced him to watch.

 _Yeah, Summer Gleeson_ , Jonathan responded as he glimpsed the black-and-white footage of the reporter chained to the wall in the cell, struggling to escape but failed. _My guess is because she delivered his dismissal story._

Just as soon as he mused that, he saw the familiar hated man in iron armor bring in the newest addition. He almost gasped. _Jim Gordon_. From what Rachel had told him, he'd been present at the hearing. This was spelling trouble for Gotham. Not that he ever cared, but lately, ever since the child inside him had entered his life, he was having a change of heart.

What was going to happen now?

~o~

She'd been the start of Bolton's disgrace and revenge plan which had taken hell of time to plan, beginning with her - but he thought she was dead as that, hadn't seen her or even bothered paying her home a visit. Then Summer Gleeson who gave the story, and now Jim Gordon who had been present at the tribunal. It made her think what if Mayor Garcia was next, or if Bruce was looking into this. She knew he was, but if he picked up quick, then he would get to Bolton before she did...

...and that meant him finding out about Jonathan, as well as her and Joker's involvement before rescuing him.

"Then, Joker, I have to get my costume on before the Batman finds out. Do you have a getaway?"

The clown laughed and threw his head back. "Sweetheart, I always come prepared. But first, don't you think we could go back to your friend for some extra hands if she has any?"

~o~

"Get up, Crane."

Jonathan nearly bolted up in fear when the fat man loomed over him with that same murderous look on his face. "I said, get up." Unable to risk a beatdown or violation especially when he was very pregnant, Jonathan awkwardly rose to his feet, his huge belly weighing hard on his skinny body. The sickly smile made him want to vomit even though it had been months since the sickness stopped. "I see both of you are rising rather well. I look forward to the day that's coming soon."

Jonathan knew he meant the day the baby was born. His heartbeat picked up when he thought about what the monster would do to both him and the child. He felt his arm being taken roughly and pulled forward and out of the room. "Wh-where are you taking me?" he dared to ask his captor.

"To a safer place…until the little brat arrives. And then I will carry out my next step."

~o~

The first thing Rachel had to do was to locate Talia al Ghul for advice. Her teacher and new friend was still living in the same area in Gotham, in one of the higher class neighborhoods. She lived as a mystery to those around her. "Rachel," Talia greeted her like an old friend, smiling at her and nodding. "I knew you would come back. Have you in need of something else?"

"I found Jonathan's location," Rachel said, cutting to the point. "I know I've completed my training and that I have all the weapons, but I still need your advice. Is there anything else important that can aid me in my mission? Something to help me and my lover in all places at all times?" She didn't realize she was out of breath till she felt the slight burning in her lungs.

Talia chuckled and shook her head, but not in negation. "Dear Rachel, I never knew you could speak so much in one breath. And in answer to your question, I knew you'd ask one day. Because I have just what you need. In fact, two things."

"Show me." The woman took Rachel's hand and led her into one of the back rooms, where Rachel gasped at the pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her from a chained post.

"This is Lupa. Was one of my greatest friends; I found her in the wilderness of Canada a year ago. She'd lost her mate and is the sole surviving protector of mine...now she's yours."

The creature was truly magnificent, majestically silvery grey with a black snout constantly bowing up and down as the beast whimpered at the sight of her. Rachel loved wolves even when she was a little girl, but never met a real one once. The blue eyes against silver glowed as they took her in, accepting a caress on the head from Rachel; wolves were said to be dangerous, but she wasn't frightened. "Why give me a wolf?"

"Wolves are beautiful creatures," Talia explained in that soothing, wise voice of hers beyond her years. "They have long been considered pathfinders. They are fiercely loyal to their mates, and have a strong sense of family while maintaining individualism. They are truly free spirits." Rachel didn't realize she was up close behind her until she felt the hand on her shoulder. "Allow me to give you the traits of wolves that suit you as well, Rachel: devoted, loyal, fearless, strong emotional ties, intelligent, and loving."

"That's me and Jonathan," Rachel whispered as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"Yes. Imagine how Lupa felt when she lost her love. Wolves rarely take on another, forever faithful to their first. They're like humans in a number of manners." Her hand was back on Rachel's shoulder. "Now onto the other great weapon you asked for..."

~o~

There was just so much in his life Jonathan regretted that brought him here. Ever since he was raped for the first time by Bolton in Arkham, gotten pregnant by him, and lost Rachel for the last time.

He had not slept well for the last few months, dreaming of Rachel only and wishing he could dream forever to escape the harsh reality he was in. He missed her skin, her smell and her touch, just everything. Holding her in his arms, allowing her to feel the baby as it kicked against its protective sack. He missed his work which his whole life still depended on, still longed to get back to once he should have been away from Gotham. He despised himself for not seeing behind Ra's al Ghul's words, should have known he was being deceived, that he would lose all he had for being a fool to follow. He and Rachel should have also left Gotham when they had the chance.

But that did not matter now. There was his unborn child to think of now. He feared its safety once it was born.

He lay naked on an operating table in the room Bolton had placed him in. He was strapped face up, hands on either side of his head, and his legs parted just for the baby. _**Sick bastard he is,**_ Scarecrow snarled. _**Let me out so I can teach him what it's like to be a perv.**_

 _No, don't put me and the baby at risk._ Jonathan lifted his head in time to see three doctors in white lab coats enter the room, two looking at him with clear hatred like Bolton.

"Dr. Crane, long time no see." One of them was an overweight Hispanic, pointing to his swollen belly. "Having a baby? Disgusting. Maybe he's not as man as we all thought..."

"Who the hell are you talking about my child like this?" Jonathan snarled. All three of them wore white masks over their faces, and he felt his jaw drop at once. The Hispanic was one of his orderlies from Arkham under his reign, Antonio Gomez, another being Nurse Joanne who sort of respected him but Jonathan could have noticed back then that she possessed a kind of infatuation for him, but the third he did not recognize. What was Bolton playing at? Mocking him with his past as the former head doctor?

"He's right, Gomez; shut the hell up," Joanne said hotly, earning a scowl from him. "We're all here because Bolton stole us from Arkham, remember? We're not laying a hand on him because of the past."

"Joey, who do you think you're talking about?" the unnamed man sneered. "This is the lunatic who thought we were all cheap lowlifes."

"Remember he said it was also a 'medical emergency' and that someone he knew, cared for, was in need of help?! He never told us it was our old boss." Jonathan wanted to roll his eyes; he didn't need her defense once. "None of this is legal, and there's a child's life involved -"

"Are you questioning me, Nurse?"

No one had seen or heard Bolton arrive in the room. _**Don't worry, Jonny, I'm still here, as usual.**_ "Answer me, Nurse," Bolton demanded. "Are you questioning me?"

"No, sir," she answered, standing where she was, looking up at him defiantly. "But now that I am here, you're holding a man - a hermaphrodite who used to be my employer - having a baby locked up as a prisoner. I know everything he did to us, the people of Gotham and the Narrows, but this is back alley on so many levels. My career isn't based on this; I should have phoned the police when I had the chance."

Jonathan stared at her, feeling amazed. Even though he didn't pay attention to her other than her work ethics, he wondered if he could trust his former employee to save him and his baby's life.

In one swift move, Bolton was towering over her menacingly, but Joanne remained unaffected. "Listen, little nurse," he growled, "you'd better watch what you say to me, or so help me, I shall snap your little neck right here, right now. Now get to work! I shall be in my rooms. And don't contact me until you are done." His beady eyes flickered back to Jonathan. "The time has come, after all."

Fear flared in Jonathan. What had come?

Gomez grinned as he walked over to Jonathan with a syringe filled with clear liquid in his hand. "This should help, Scarecrow. Make the birthing process easier."

 _Oh, no. Oh God, no. He's gonna make my baby come when it's not ready. Oh, Scarecrow, please help me. I'm not ready._ All his pride having diminished once again, Jonathan laid his head back against the unforgiving operating table, whimpering like a child as the Hispanic injected the unknown serum into his thigh.

 **So, baby coming - and against Jonathan's will. :S But Rachel and Joker on the way, so we're not done.**

 **Rachel had two wolves in "On the Brink of Control". After one of Jonathan's goons tried to violate her and she killed him out of defense, she ran into the snowy wilderness and passed out from the cold, she was comforted by two wolves which found her. And when Jonathan and his other men found her, he allowed her to keep the wolves. One was black with amber eyes, the other white with blue eyes. The dark one was named Shadow and the other Snow, both girls and sisters. When Rachel became the Wolf of Gotham, they aided her. :D Badass, if you ask me, but it's sad we will never see its conclusion. :(**

 **I thought it be best, also, if Talia have Rachel a wolf, and since I love wolves myself, I thought it was perfect. :D But this time gray with blue eyes. The name Lupa was of the Roman wolf goddess; everything Talia said about wolves was from my research. Now it's the new Vixen herself, her new wolf companion as well as the Clown Prince of Crime to save the Scarecrow and the baby coming!**


	11. Justice vs Vigilantism

**I still am learning about one of Batman's notorious villains called the Black Mask, Roman Sionis (the original before Jeremiah Arkham, if my research was correct), but the name of the place where Bolton keeps his prisoners was inspired by the history of that family.**

Chapter Eleven

Justice vs Vigilantism

Bolton had Jonathan as well as Jim Gordon and Summer Gleeson at the abandoned Sionis Hospital.

She and Joker, with Lupa in tow, mapped out everything that the clown brought to her, along with her own blueprints of the old hospital. Years ago, it had been one of Gotham's primary health care centers, but the funding and everything stopped when Roman Sionis' parents were killed in the house fire, and their son let it go to waste. That gave Lyle Bolton the opportunity to make sure no one gave a damn - perhaps the Batman and Poison Ivy herself, unaware of the latter as he was - about who would be taken here, and no one would bother calling the authorities.

The Narrows had been lost since Fear Night, some crazies that hadn't been caught still loose in the streets over two years ago, but Ivy would take care of that. They would feel her steel and the power of fear beneath it; they feared the Batman, so they had a new face coming to them.

Wearing the corset and certain parts of her body bared, the spiked braces flexing her arms, and her belt equipped with her knives and guns, and the latest weapon from Talia strapped to her left calf. She sighed heavily when she put the mask on, looking at herself in the mirror of her bedroom, getting a whistle from Joker behind her and a bark of approval from Lupa as they beheld the Vixen of Vines.

"No one will know you, ya know, beautiful?" Joker praised. "You're a bad, bad girl, and I like already."

"Don't think you're getting anything of me, clown," she warned, whirling around and putting a hand on one gun, the other on a knife. It only made Joker cackle wildly again.

"I won't get anything but getting Jonny out of there. Breaking into Lock-Up's lair, free the hostages and save our Jonny boy...I like nothing better than that."

There was no guarding needed, but that did not mean there would not be security cameras in check. Bolton must be anticipating arrival of the Batman for his prisoners the public knew were missing. Rachel, Joker and the wolf crouched low to duck the seen cameras always rotating; was that Bolton or the devices moving of their own volition like in Arkham or anywhere else? It didn't matter; they needed to stick together. "So, what would you like me to do, sister?" Joker asked in a hushed voice. "Find Jonny and get him out of there, free the other prisoners, too?"

 _I'd say yes, but they would see us all together, turn us in to the Batman. I can't risk it. I'll do my part, Batman will do his._ "No," she said simply. "We stick to the one we want the most, nothing more. Understand?" If he so much as did one thing to mess up, then she would not hesitate to kill him right here and right now.

"Oh, I understand all right," Joker answered at the same time they slipped into a collection of shadows, one of the greatest allies of being a warrior.

"Thanks," she answered, before turning back ahead and gasping once she saw that they were inside what had once been the ICU, and the sound of screams were filling the air. She froze. Then she felt Joker's gloved hand on her forearm.

"That sounded like Jonny," he whispered. "In fact," he added, "let's check through there." His head jerked in the direction of the window before them. Lupa growled, her jaws bared, arching back as if ready to attack. There were figures in white crowded around something in there. Rachel heard the screams again, this time more closely.

"It _is_ Jonathan," she murmured. "Something's wrong."

~o~

Jonathan was still sobbing even after the torturous forced labor was over. His eyes were blurred as he tried to make out the squirming little bundle in the arms of Nurse Joanne, who was standing before the approaching figure of Lyle Bolton.

Arms still strapped above his head, Jonathan whimpered out, "Please…please give her to me." He'd heard - rather than saw - that his child was a girl. Gomez only chuckled at his weak protest. Blinking, Jonathan finally saw his daughter in the compassionate nurse's arms. Her eyes were closed, but strands of dark hair grew from her round little head. Her face…so much like his own and nothing like the monster before them, her so-called father.

Jonathan's parental instincts kicked in when he saw Joanne unwillingly hand the innocent little thing over to the beast. "No," he cried. "No, please, my baby…please give her to me." Desperate hoarse sobs wracked his throat when Bolton laughed cruelly.

"Gentlemen," he said to the orderlies who turned out to be "doctors" worse than anyone else he worked with, "feel free to have fun with him while I treat the little one here." He nodded for Joanne to follow him. She casted one last sad look at the grief-stricken man bound down on the operating table, still covered in blood and helpless to save his newborn.

 _"Damn you, Bolton!"_ Jonathan screamed, before a hand punched him in his abdomen, where the baby had been for nine whole months. He didn't see who it was from, only the pain that burst from where his daughter had been.

"Oh, hell to the no as anyone would say. That's my Scarecrow you laid a hand on."

All attention was focused on the purple figure that stood in the doorway. Glasgow paint leered menacingly and eerily delightfully at both men, which faded into a growl and curling of the lips when charcoal eyes slipped past to see Jonathan, naked and bleeding on the table. "Joker!" the unnamed man shouted with horror and disbelief. "What is this scum to you?"

"This _scum,_ boys, happens to be my man."

That second voice was accompanied by a very chilling howl from the wilderness, metaphorically speaking. Joker stepped aside to let the other person gracefully flip into the air, and a third which was a buzz of gray followed her, landing on all four feet after the woman on both of her own.

The beast on all fours was a majestic silver wolf, its piercing blue eyes glowing dangerously as they beheld the men in white, ready for its next prey. But it was not this creature that Jonathan paid attention to, but the woman between the wolf and his friend.

A dark green strapless corset hugged her curves, baring her six-packed midriff, and her naked arms enhanced with spiked dark bracers. Knives and guns were strapped around her waist, and her pants were green leather so dark it was almost black. A mask of burlap revealed the lower half of her face and her eyes which he recognized as cerulean, and her face was framed with rich dark hair combined with sleek and tousled. A thin circlet of crystal green flowers ran across her forehead.

But there was something else, something that bothered him. Her once pure ivory flesh was now pale and tinted with aqua blushes; green veins crawled up and over her neck and forearms like ivy vines. Her lips were now a deeper, more passionate pink and still kissable. How did this happen to her, now that he knew who it was?

 _Rachel._

 _She's alive_.

"Bitch, back off," Gomez sneered. "You don't want to get hurt by Bolton if he comes, do you?"

"I'm counting on it," she replied, and with lightning speed, she drew one of her pistols and aimed it at him, firing and hitting him in the groin. Howling in pain, he dropped to the ground and was left for holding down by the gray wolf; he was easily frightened by the snarling beast. "Joker, the other's yours!" Rachel shouted as she cartwheeled over her canine and Gomez, leaving the other man for Joker and his knife, as well as one of his famous stories.

"Now, ta ta ta ta, I don't want you to try anything fancy with the lady if you want a face like mine."

Gomze and the other man down, Rachel had her attention on Jonathan. He felt like he was going to faint at the sight of her. All of these months and he thought she was dead. But here she was, transformed altogether. "Are you okay?" she whispered, helping him out of his bonds with one of her knives severing the ropes. He noticed its Celtic craftsmanship. "Where did they take the baby?"

"How do I know?" he said, ignoring the pain of his heart. "Bolton has her. And Nurse Joanne."

They both looked back when Joker was giving his "story". "My friend, you wanna know how I got these scars?" The poor victim was too horrified to answer, so Joker took this as his answer. "Well, let's see: my father was a doctor, but not like you, fake-pants. But he harbored a dark side; he was a drug addict, until one night he was so high he came onto me and told me I needed to smile more often, make him happy. 'Why so serious?' So he sticks the blade in my mouth with 'Let's put a smile on that face!' And..." He paused in his story to look at Gomez, grinning ear to ear.

"Why so serious?"

Blood splashed onto the floor when his knife gutted its target. The man fell dead with a _splat_. The wolf barked three times, abandoning its target momentarily before Gomez began to rise only to be forced back down when the wolf returned its ferocious eyes onto him. Rachel smirked and twirled her knife in her hands, leaning down and itching the blade across his cheek. "You know, I remember you," she said softly, not intentionally giving who she was away. "A bottom feeder who loved to play his games with the inmates for his own amusement. I despise scumbags like you. Even men who overpower a woman. Which is what your new boss did to me."

"Who the hell are you, woman?" Gomez spat, crying out when her blade cut a deep gash into his cheek.

"Poison Ivy." Just like Joker, more blood, only this time to the heart. Seeing his Rachel kill the man who punched Jonathan's "womb" - since he liked to think so - he felt his heart beat faster than before.

"Isn't she bad or what, Jonny?" Joker tittered excitedly. "You're lucky to have a woman like that."

"That I am," he answered proudly, wincing as he felt himself tear inside. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but he needed some clothes if they were getting out of here. Lucky for him, Joker had been searching around and brought him an old gray robe for now. He looked down and smiled when the wolf whined and came up to stick her nose into his face. He laughed and accepted a lick on the face. _**Damn, you just had a baby, got your ass kicked - sort of anyway - watched your woman kill a man with your best friend, and now you get kissed by a dog.**_

 _A_ wolf _is not a dog, Scarecrow._

 _ **Whatever. Canine is canine.**_

"Oh, Rachel, look what I found! Is this the poison he used on you?" Jonathan looked at a vial of clear fluid, seeing the word "oleander" on the label, and remembered what Bolton said he did to his Rachel. The venom was supposed to stop her heart, but instead, look what it did to her. Why didn't it kill her?

The look on her face was pure deadly hatred. "Yes," she hissed, "and now I get to give him a taste of what he gave me." She put the vial and the syringe into her pants pocket for now. "Come on, we have one more life to find."

~o~

Rachel's heart had begun to beat a million times faster the second her eyes laid on her Jonathan, her Scarecrow, for the first time in months - but her rage once more festered when they took in his naked body, covered in blood and abused more than she imagined. Bolton taking the baby was the last straw. She would most definitely hunt him down.

And she would KILL him for parting their family. For doing this to Jonathan, and for trying to kill her.

The four of them were running down the halls and no longer caring about the cameras on them...and even that did not prevent the sudden blare of the alarm and flashing red lights. "Damn it!" Rachel shouted as she supported Jonathan, with Joker on the other side, and Lupa springing in front of them while keeping her close distance.

"Hey, lady!" Joker shouted at the woman in a white coat who suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway, with a white blanket bundle in her arms that was squirming. "I believe that is what we are looking for!"

To Rachel's surprise, the woman ran their way and held out the baby. Jonathan feebly took the child into his arms, and Rachel reached to withdraw a knife from her belt. "You guys go. I'll deal with Bolton."

"No," Jonathan protested weakly. "You can't…"

"Yes, I can and I will." She turned to look at the woman. "Who are you?"

"The name's Kimball. Nurse Joanne Kimball. Bolton kidnapped me but didn't tell me why until I saw him here." She nodded once at Jonathan. "I used to work for him, too, at Arkham." So, this woman once worked for Jonathan, and she was helping them - but it was also clear she wasn't coming with them.

"Wait, you helped him; aren't you coming with us?" Rachel asked, confused.

"No," Kendall said, shaking her head. Her pathetic, cowardly nature made Rachel very angry. "Doctor, you need to leave safely. Save your baby before he comes." And just like that, she turned and ran from them. Joker scowled and shook his head.

"Scared little bitch," he grumbled.

"No kidding." Rachel leaned up and kissed Jonathan on the forehead. "Get out of here now. Avoid anything on the way. I'll look for Lock-Up."

She saw Jonathan's eyes, those eyes she had longed to see again, on her, silently begging her to be careful. She gave him an assuring smile, before turning to leave them and head off in the direction the coward Joanne went. She whistled behind her for Lupa to follow, and she did.

They skidded to a halt when they heard a scream. Lupa growled as she sniffed the air in the direction she heard the cry, off in the corridor to their right. She sprinted off down there. "Lupa, wait!" Rachel hissed, chasing after her. They ignored altogether the latest security camera above their heads.

Rachel nearly lost her balance when she nearly collided with something on the floor. Looking down, she saw it was the body of Nurse Joanne. Her eyes were wide open and staring up at Rachel. There were no wounds or marks, so she assumed the woman's neck had been snapped by a bare hand.

"I told her she'd get that." Bolton's voice was as sickly smooth as she remembered. Crouching low, she held two of her daggers out at ready, the wolf flanking her and baring her teeth at him. "I never go back on my word, whoever you are."

"It doesn't matter who I am, Lock-Up," Rachel said coldly. "What matters is my job."

"And that is?"

"To bring out true justice."

 _"Justice?"_ The man who raped and impregnated the man she loved, and then did the same to her after he poisoned her, threw his head back and laughed. "How does killing someone count as justice?"

"How does beating, threatening, and raping prisoners count?" Rachel retorted. "I heard about you, Lyle Bolton. I heard about you being kicked out of Arkham Asylum for that. Even a certain Scarecrow."

"Crane," Bolton sneered. "My favorite out of all of them. His little woman's body, round little ass for a good slap, his tight little…"

Rachel snapped. She stood but put her daggers back into place, turned her back to him, but she had her second weapon on her mind. Kneeling down slowly, she drew the long chain bestowing spiked balls, whirled around in a circle and threw it at him, where it struck him in the shins, wrapping around and pulling him off his feet. He stopped mid-sentence and howled in pain, falling to his knees. Rachel then drew a knife and struck him in a thigh, making him scream again. He reached to grab the knife, but in an instance, Lupa was on him, forcing him back onto the stoned floor, snarling viciously. He looked up in fear into the wolf's cold blue eyes.

"Never speak of a man that way again." Rachel walked over and towered over the pathetic excuse of a man, placing the underside of her boot over his chest, close to his throat, keeping him down. "Don't you realize that something like what you've done can ruin a man, damage his pride? Make him feel unworthy of the one he loves?"

Bolton choked out but said nothing. His eyes widened at the sight of the scandalously dressed, intimidating woman above him, her eyes venomous as her flesh he knew was not painted. It made her excited at the thought of her finally being able to hurt this bastard; he deserved it for his crimes.

Bolton started to rise, but Lupa snarled and closed her jaw on his wrist, making him cry out. Rachel increased her footing pressure. "What made you think you could get away from us, mmm? I am armed and you're not, or do you think because you're a man and three times my size, you can get away with anything?" She knelt down while keeping her heel where it was, while holding up her other knife she now pulled out. "I'm still trying to think of how to end you right here, right now, and taste your blood I'll spill."

"You won't get away with this, bitch," he growled, only to scream again when Lupa clamped her jaws on him again. Rachel laughed.

"You know, you're not the first to call me that. I've been called that by your Hispanic orderly who was among those to oversee Jonathan's labor. I took care of him and the other bastard, and I planned on sparing sweet little Nurse Joanne." She glared into his eyes. "Until you murdered her. Which gives me another reason to kill you right now." She sat up on both knees and held her knife in her right hand. "Keep him down, girl," she said to Lupa. Putting the knife back to her belt and drawing the best for last, she murmured, "I've waited a long time to do this."

In her hands now were the vial and the syringe of the oleander venom, which he recognized. "Oh, you remember, don't you?" Rachel sang as she sucked out the correct dosage and pressed the bottom up to show it worked, a small spray squirting out. "You used this on a certain defenseless, unarmed woman in the alleyway, raped her and left her to die."

"The Scarecrow's whore." His insult earned a bite on the ear from Lupa, and he shouted in pain.

"The one you made..." She leaned her face over his, smelling his foul breath, with the needle between her fingers. "...into this one in front of you." That had been her greatest desire, to have him see what he did to her. His eyes widened with horrifying recognition.

"D-Dawes! But you - you - I killed you!"

Rachel smiled even though she wanted to sneer. "Oh, no, I survived your work. But here I am, making this that much sweeter. My new husband and I will take our child and get as far away from Gotham after this, but you yourself won't live to see it." With that, she injected the needle into his neck and plunged the serum into his system so he could feel the same pain she did. "While you burn in hell, you'll remember who I am now." She smiled seductively.

"Poison Ivy."

Lyle Bolton choked his last when the blade slashed his throat and splattered crimson, finishing the job off.

Rachel didn't know what came over her when she lifted the bloodied blade to her face and licked off a small portion as she said she would. It tasted sweet. _Sweet revenge_.

~o~

They took Joker's van back into the city, and for the entire ride, Jonathan's mind was too set on the night's events. The baby was in his arms as he sat in the back, with that wolf perched beside him and whining, leaning her head on his lap and getting to know him, as well as Rachel with her mask removed so he could see her poor face. How Bolton did this to her, he paid for it. He was no longer an interference, and Jonathan hoped no one else would come between them again.

 _ **I wouldn't be too sure of that, my friend. Danger is always waiting in this city at every turn.**_

He tried to distract them both by looking at Rachel again in her new outfit. Was this what she became now, like him? A costumed persona for the whole city to know about in a matter of time? What was it...Poison Ivy? _**Nice ring to it. You called her your little flower, after all, and Bolton intoxicated her with that shit.**_

He tried not to laugh at the colorful phrase. _Nice choice of words. And yes, she IS my little flower, after all. Just look at her..._

 _ **Hot, and not regretting that word of choice.**_

 _Just breathtakingly beautiful, on my part. Leave it there._

But it begged the question how she suited up and turned into this. Someone with those skills had to have taught her, and only one man could, only he was dead. _But what about Talia? His daughter...she could still be alive. She must still be here in Gotham somewhere, planning on finishing where her father left off._

His body felt like it was drained of energy, but the one thing that kept him awake all the way was the little thing in his arms. His new baby, his little Verity Rose Crane. Such a lovely name, indeed. Her eyes were still closed, and she was snoring lightly. She was so precious. As precious as the woman who sat next to him while Joker drove them home.

"There you go, lovebirds," he announced cheerily, bringing the van to a halt. "Anything else I can do for you tonight, beautiful?" _**Ah huh, still checking her out and making crude marks, I see,**_ Scarecrow noted.

 _Even though she's mine._

"No thanks," Rachel answered as she got out first, the wolf following her like an escort. "We're done for now. I owe you one," she added with a wink as she helped Jonathan out, who still held his child with both arms.

 _ **Well, at least she didn't sleep with him or anyone while you were parted.**_

 _Oh, God, don't make me vomit._

"If anything else, ya'll know where to find me," Joker answered back, returning the wink. "And uh, Jonny?" Jonathan looked back over his shoulder to his friend. "Glad to see you back. Keep her with you at all times this time."

~o~

She turned on the lights as soon as they got back to the apartment, having snuck in through the balcony instead of the front door. Lupa whined again as she took in her new home, jumping onto the couch and curling up, whimpering with satisfaction and with approval from its owner. Rachel sat down on the other end to tug off her boots and her weapons utility belt. She almost forgot about Jonathan until he spoke to her.

"Rachel." She missed his melodic voice. He was sitting on the sofa near the wolf, still cradling the baby. "Do you have a place for…her to sleep?" he asked tentatively.

 _Shit_ , Rachel thought as she looked around the apartment, finally settling on her bedroom doorway, remembering an empty drawer in her nightstand. She could pull the thing out and lay it on the floor, next to her side of the bed, and put a pillow in and a few blankets in it.

After getting the little one settled in, Rachel looked back up at Jonathan, seeing him sitting down on her bed, watching her closely. Hearing a soft sigh, they both looked back down at the baby closing her eyes and going to sleep with a smile. Rachel's heart melted at the pure innocence and Jonathan in her features. "She's beautiful," Rachel whispered, running a finger lightly across the satiny soft forehead.

"As beautiful as you are."

She didn't answer him, not sure how to respond after having just got him back. She just left him be and proceeded to undress in front of him, removing her leather and little bit of armor until all of her was revealed to him. "He overpowered me once before, and I had to train before I could come and get you both." She met his eyes then, moved by the gratitude and vulnerability in their pools. When they moved over her naked form, she quickly brought her arms over her chest and below her waist, suddenly ashamed and knowing that this was too far down the road to turn back now. Jonathan stood then and walked over to her, but she shrunk away. He followed, pulling her close to him, and her body felt the vibrations returning to life as she felt him against her.

"What happened to you?" he asked suddenly, a hand tracing a green vein in her arm. She flinched.

"Bolton."

"Bolton," he repeated, anger seeping. "He told me what he did to you when he recaptured me. He took you like he did…me in Arkham…" he choked. "…and then he poisoned you. Said you were dead." He hiccupped slightly, like a child would. Taken by the innocence, Rachel leaned forward and captured his lips with hers, tasting and savoring him for the first time in three long months.

"God," she gasped, breaking apart. "Jonathan, I love you with all my being. But how can you and I make this work again if the world is trying to keep us apart?"

He led her back to the bed. "Rachel, I wanted to ask you before all this happened, in the right way. I ordered something for you three days before I was abducted."

She instantly knew what he was referring to. She reached into the top drawer of that same dresser and pulled it out. "This?" The emerald-cut diamond and its companion glittered in the light of the single lit lamp. Jonathan gazed at it, mesmerized.

"Yes." He took it from her. "Rachel Dawes, you are everything to me and always will be, and even though I have nothing to offer you or my daughter there, I promise that I will treat you like the queen that you are for the rest of your days, and I want you there to help me raise her. I regret letting you go a long time ago, and I will not do it this time. So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife again?"

"Yes." With that, she leaned in and kissed him with upmost passion.

 **I'm having so much fun with Rachel as Poison Ivy it's not even funny. :) Just like the Wolf and her guards kicking ass when they rescued Jonathan from the cops after the Batman left him and the faux ones at the beginning of "The Dark Knight", and then some passionate lovemaking after a heated fight after they escaped. It's been so long since I read "Control", like I said, so I don't remember every word of that event, and I hope this wasn't too similar. Too much, anyway.**

 **I hope everyone likes Poison Ivy's new look. I wanted her to have something fresh and modern, still seductive, and realistic.**

 **Anyways, Bolton got ganked by Poison Ivy. :D But we're far from over, so there's more to come. And the newly engaged - a second time - couple has a baby to raise now, readjust their new life.**


	12. A New Threat

**A few more chapters to go, and I can't believe how I'm happy with this. :D Someone begged for a happy ending, and I won't disappoint in the end.**

Chapter Twelve

A New Threat

She exited the bathroom wearing her favorite island-themed robe, skin glittering with faint pink - her favorite lotion - with a grin. "Missed me like this?" she teased.

He took her in intensely, from the long hair wet and wild around her shoulders, lips a darker, more passionate pink than originally, body covered in "ivy vines". The green veins on her neck stood out starkly against her ivory-and-aqua skin. "I certainly did, but you do not disgust me, if that is what you feared," he assured her when she came to lie down beside him. "I loathe him for doing this to you, but it also..." He breathed hotly against her ear. "...turns me on."

She had spent the last hour giving him every detail of Bolton and her awakening to her new look, and the last three months of her training with _Talia al Ghul. So it WAS her,_ he said to Scarecrow. _But Rachel isn't joining her in the League, as I never did._

 _ **Because she knows Rachel will never be the same as them, yet honed her into one hell of a fighter. Imagine how her Daddy would have been if he saw this.**_

"Jon..." He hadn't heard her call him by his nickname in a long time, and it made him sigh. "...right now we should start thinking about a new place for you to live. I don't want anyone else finding you here; we should at least be separated for now until I can get us both out of Gotham."

She was referring to separating them again, but not like before. Last time they talked about this was when she was on the phone with Dr. Quinzelle, however she was doing now. They would have gone through with it if Bolton hadn't interrupted. And did she even decide a place yet? "Have you found a site yet?" he asked.

"Not really, but there is one for sure that no one will bother again - and no one has patched it up but myself with some help from Harleen. But you won't like it."

~o~

"Unacceptable," Janet hissed, throwing the newspaper down on her desk. Rachel smirked, her back facing her "boss" as she leaned over the latest case, this one having to do with the defendant charged with murdering his wife after finding out she'd cheated on him. But she knew what the newspaper headline said:

MURDER-KIDNAPPING AT ABANDONED SIONIS HOSPITAL

"Unacceptable," she heard Janet mutter again, and lifted her head from the file only a tad bit. "Now, this is exactly what this city needs. A new costume-clad psychopath, if that's what it is. Who by all accounts has murdered four people at the same place where the _Batman_ ," she spat, "rescued Summer Gleeson and the commissioner."

"If I may say, Janet," Rachel said, finally turning around in her chair, "wasn't one of the four dead none other than Lyle Bolton, the former head of security at Arkham? The one who abused and raped most of the inmates?"

"If he did all that, then they deserved it." Janet's poisonous blue eyes raised to meet Rachel's. "They are responsible for screwing their own lives up. Even the ones who go on bad behavior."

Rachel felt her anger rise. "What if they weren't misbehaving, and he did all that because he felt like it?" she asked, keeping her cool.

The DA scoffed. "Well, then that would be a sign that he's keeping the scum in line."

Rachel gasped. How _dare_ that bitch say such a thing! It sounded like…like she didn't care about them. In fact, she didn't care about anyone _at all_.

She stopped herself. Why was she having these thoughts? It was no surprise that Janet Van Dorn hated almost everyone. All she cared about was her job. "In line?" she repeated. "You call rape, a longtime severe crime, a way of keeping someone in line?"

"Oh please, Rachel, for all you know, they could have been making that up."

"Oh, bullshit!" Rachel snapped in spite of herself. She flung down the papers she held on the table in a fit. "There was proof! We have previously hidden surveillance and rape signs on the inmates who had been subjected to it. How can you call that lies?" She shook her head.

"Why are you like this, Janet? You talk to and about people like this as though they are nothing. Admit it, you hate _everyone_. I know you hate me. You are completely resentful. You grew up in a family of lawyers where you barely had a life, just lived it under your family's wing. You obeyed their every word, did exactly what they told you to do. You're only working law because your family did that, knowing they would be proud of you. You were _scared_ of what they thought of you."

She paused, not realizing she'd been speaking all in one breath. She inhaled, then exhaled to relieve the burning in her lungs. But she didn't get the chance to continue when the Queen Bitch started talking.

"Don't condescend me, Miss Dawes," she snarled, leaning forward over her desk. "You don't get to judge me just because you gave your maidenhead to a madman who used to run Arkham."

In a flash, Rachel was in front of Van Dorn. "Shut up about Jonathan!" she shouted. "My relationship with him, as I keep telling you, is none of your goddamn business!"

The other woman's face inched closer so that their noses were almost touched. "Watch your tongue, missy, or I'll relieve you of your pension. As your employer, I have authority to do that. And I do happen to know the type of criminals like your Scarecrow. I gave myself to a man once. He was my college sweetheart. A brilliant man. I lost my girlhood to him one night at a party, after a long day of my studies. I had always been the good girl until that night I got drunk with him. I'd figured since we'd known each other for a few months, and in my drunken mind then, I thought it was time. But it turned out that I was so out of my mind I had no idea what happened. When I was losing consciousness because of my state, he took me in the room we were given." Her eyes glittered.

"Betrayed, I left him, but it wasn't so easy. He broke into my dorm room with a knife and tried to kill me. He had me pinned on my own bed, holding the knife over my head, but I managed to keep it from reaching me, the target. I grabbed the knife and I killed him myself."

She smirked at Rachel's shocked expression. "You see my point, Rachel? The man you gave yourself to after he drugged you and took you home is as much a monster as mine was."

"He's no monster, Janet," Rachel growled.

Janet smirked again. "Keep saying that. You'll realize I'm right sooner or later. Perhaps if he ever appears again in the future and I have him back up with the rest of the crazies." She straightened up and picked up the newspaper. "Much like I'll do to our newcomer here. They say it's a she, so I can safely say that I'll have her answer to her crimes."

"Was it a crime really, killing a man who kidnapped our police commissioner and an innocent woman?" Rachel asked, careful not to let her cover blow.

Van Dorn glared at her as she sat down. "Don't test me again. Wouldn't want things to get uglier than they were before, now would we? And in answer, she ought to receive something of a comeuppance. Just like the Batman. Except she's more violent than the Batman."

~o~

 _You know, I think I can do this,_ Jonathan thought to Scarecrow as he took in the sight of his daughter in his arms. Her eyes were closed, and she rested her little head against his chest, tiny little rosebud mouth opened lightly as she breathed in her sleep. She was precious. She made him feel some way he couldn't quite place.

 _ **You think, Jonny? You don't know much about babies.**_

 _Well, I know I have to change the nappies whenever she needs it, and I know to feed regularly. Good thing Rachel had made sure to get the stuff needed before we got back_.

 _ **Except the crib.**_

 _Doubt she had enough notice to get one_ , Jonathan said, but he was certain that his Verity would be fine with the dresser drawer until they got a better place.

And that place turned out to be none other than _his father's house._

Ever since Gerald Crane was killed, Jonathan had used the money - whatever much it was - left and abandoned the house for Gotham State University, not bothering to return to the home of his birth again. But Rachel had known all along he never wanted to go back there, so WHY did she pick that house?

A wet nose butted against his bare ankle, and Jonathan jumped slightly, looking down to see that it was Lupa, the gray wolf with piercing blue eyes like his own. She looked up at him with a tender curiosity that made him chuckle. He wondered where Rachel could've gotten such a remarkable creature to be her "bodyguard". _**Well, duh, how about Talia of all people?**_

He smiled as the wolf rested her head on his lap while Verity gave out a little sigh as she opened her eyes and looked up at her father. Jonathan's heart lifted. They were blue. Crystalline, icy blue. Like his own.

~o~

Rachel was exhausted by the time she got home. All she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes, but there were Jonathan and the baby to handle first. She walked up the stairs to her floor, unlocked the door intent on seeing her lover and his new daughter, and was about to open the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She barely had time to scream before she was turned around, and a hand was clamped over her mouth.

"Sssh, darling. No need to let the neighbors hear."

"Talia," Rachel said once she was free to breathe and talk. "What are you doing at my house at this time?"

"To let you know that I'm impressed with your handiwork," the black-clad woman replied with a twitch of the mouth before it faded. "But it's not all good news. I had some of my own digging to come to the conclusion about another new face coming soon."

Rachel sighed in exasperation. "Who is it this time?" _I just finished off Lock-Up. His demise should've ended all this. Who could it be this time?_

"I don't know who, but Bolton was just a pawn. Working for someone who shares personal hatred for people like your doctor and others like him. This one is going to show her face soon, so you'll might as well be ready."

She left Rachel standing there, stunned at what she'd just heard. _Someone else...Bolton was just a pawn..._ who _is it?_

It took Rachel a moment to gather herself and go on inside her home, where Jonathan was relaxing against the sofa, with a familiar little head of dark hair and peachy skin resting against his chest. "You two look used to each other now," she noted with a smile as she set her purse down on the counter and walked to the fridge. "Has she eaten yet today?"

"Fed her this morning, then earlier this afternoon," Jonathan answered, the baby grunting with him. He chuckled. "I think maybe she could use something in her right now."

"Coming right up." Rachel retrieved the bottle of formula and joined him. "Jonathan, I never took you one for knowing how to raise children."

"I don't," he admitted, taking the bottle from her and putting it to the child's little mouth. She took it like a man craving for a drink. Jonathan and Rachel chuckled. "Babies must have appetites like she does," he said. "So, who was that woman you were talking to?"

Rachel stiffened, wondering if she should tell him now. But she couldn't wait, because everything Talia said was urgent and no doubt no less worse than Lock-Up. _So, decision made, I suppose. He deserves to know._

"I was visited by Talia again. She came to warn me about someone who may be an even bigger threat than Bolton. Someone who hates people like you, Joker, and the others."

His dazzling eyes searched her face warily. "Who is it?" he asked, holding the baby closer to him.

"We don't know yet. But Jonathan…" She moved closer and leaned forward to rest her head against his shoulder. "…I'm afraid for you. For the baby. For the others. I fear this unknown villain has something bigger planned. I'm told they know I killed Bolton."

She felt his lips on her forehead. "Well, then, my Rachel, I think now maybe we can be married as soon as possible. If you are ready, I mean."

Rachel's heart melted at spending the rest of her life with him like they should have finished the first time around. Her in her white dress and flowers, him in a suit, the vows and rings exchanged, the night together…

But there were catches that needed to be considered. Even if she disappeared just like that with him, everyone would go after her and find her with Jonathan again. Love wasn't that simple, but it was what they both wanted and no one was going to take that from them no matter what they did. She regarded everything around her with the same contempt as he did, especially Van Dorn.

"I am ready, Jonathan," she whispered, running a hand through his luxuriant raven hair. "I want to marry you now and soon. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to take us both out of Gotham and start fresh someplace where no one can follow and find us. I want to help raise the child. I want us to be mated like two wolves, even two ever blooming roses every year. I'll even kill those who try to separate us in the future."

He sounded out of breath when he said "My little flower" and took her lips with his, with baby Verity cooing at the sight above her.

~o~

 _Ten years ago...our senior prom._

That night had been the first time he felt like a "normal" man, beholding the sight of him and his date just before his father died. Jonathan's tuxedo felt like it belonged at Sunday Mass, but Rachel had no issue with it. Still, he felt like he was out of place beside her in her soft blush-colored dress with the ivory floral overlay, her hair loose and accented with a swirling circlet set with a blue gemstone, that droplet of a diamond charm around her neck. She was beautiful; she kept this even after their divorce. He still possessed his own copy, until his arrest. "Look," he cooed to Verity as he showed her the picture. "This is Daddy with...Mommy when we were younger." Since Rachel would be the active mother in her life, might as well use mother as the title. She didn't mind.

The sound of the door knocking made Jonathan jump in fright. Rachel obviously couldn't be home at this time, so he had no idea who it could be. Holding his daughter close to him, he silently crept towards the door. Lupa arched back, growling protectively, but Jonathan silenced her with a look before putting his eye to the peephole in the front door. _Dr. Quinzelle_ , he thought to Scarecrow. _Wonder why she's here_.

 _ **One way to find out then. Let her in**_.

He would, but there was Lupa to deal with. He turned and nodded for the wolf to step back. She scrambled away further, giving him his cue to open the door just a little bit. "Harleen, what a surprise."

"It's been a hell of awhile, Jonny," she said cheerily. "Rachel told me everything, and I was afraid for the both of you!"

"Yes, and so is this little one." He held up Verity who was looking at the strange woman with wonder, and Harleen grinned at her. "And please come in, I suppose." He quickly shut the door right behind him so no one saw that it wasn't anyone other than the owner of this place.

"Look, Rachel called and said to get you out of here and fast."

"Why? Is she kicking me out now?" Jonathan questioned, wondering what was going on now. The baby stared up first at him, then to Quinzelle, and back.

"Said that Van Dorn suspects you're here, so we need to get you and your daughter to safety." Vivid blue eyes looked down at the little one in Jonathan's arms. "She's so beautiful," she cooed. "It's so wonderful to know you do love her in spite of..."

"Don't finish, Harleen," he said sharply, holding her closer. "I may hate the man who put her in me, but she's everything to me as much as Rachel is. This wasn't her fault."

"I'm sorry."

He saw Lupa come up beside him and sniff at the woman's suit dress curiously. Harleen laughed. "Well, what have we got here?" she asked, kneeling down to pet the dog's head. She growled, not menacingly, and accepted the caress.

"Rachel said that she adopted her herself. Said that Lupa found her first," Jonathan lied, not wanting to reveal that the wolf was a present from the long-dead Ra's al Ghul's daughter. "She's family."

"Well, she's coming, too, because we need to leave now and fast. We'll take my car."

~o~

 _Less than an hour earlier..._

"City of Gotham versus White."

"Miss White, you were arrested for prostitution," the judge said coldly, watching the young blonde with piercing eyes that could penetrate your soul easily. But she didn't do that to Rachel. Jill White was a young woman in her mid-twenties, homeless and living on the streets as a prostitute. She'd been arrested recently. In the past, Rachel would think that it was filthy selling your body to random sweaty strangers, though many times it was for a reason, and one reason only: desperation. Miss White had no home and no money, but in the eyes of the law, that did not change what she did. If Rachel could - if this could be part of being Poison Ivy - she would find a way to help the poor girl get a better life.

"Yes she was, Your Honor." Rachel mentally sighed when Janet stood to make the case. "She was arrested several times before, so the people request no bail."

Rachel wanted to scream out that the girl was homeless and needed some way to survive, but she had to remind herself that she was a professional, so she begrudgingly kept her mouth shut and watched as the ambitious woman stood before the girl. "Miss White, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I do," she replied, so quietly that Rachel almost didn't hear her. "You know the reason I do what I do. I'm desperate and I needed to survive. No one else would take me in, and I can't get a job because of the goddamn economy."

"Language, young lady." Van Dorn stood her full height. "You Honor, the people request no bail." _Don't you mean_ you _request no bail?_

"I'm afraid I have to decline that, Miss Van Dorn," the judge said wearily, waving a hand. "Bail is set at $1,500 in cash or bonds until trial date."

Though Rachel was shocked at the unbearably large amount that the girl couldn't even afford, she was elated at the shocked expression on her boss' face. "$1,500?" she repeated as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yes, $1,500. Now, Miss White, if you manage to make bail, you'd better be back here for your trial. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," was the defendant's simple, almost bored answer.

"If you're not here, you will regret it," the judge warned before waving her off. "Go see the clerk for your trial date now."

As Jill White was led away by her lawyer, Rachel smiled only a little, which didn't go unnoticed by Janet, who pulled her over as soon as everyone filed out of the courtroom. "Miss Dawes, did you even see what happened in there?"

"Of course I did, Janet. I saw a hooker get off on bail -"

Janet interrupted her with a hiss and a tighter grip on the forearm. "How will she even manage? The judge is every as bit of a wimp as everyone else around here."

"It's due process," Rachel replied smoothly, amused despite the pressure on her arm.

Van Dorn looked like she was on the verge of slapping her in the face right in front of everyone in the courthouse. "You little -"

"Miss Van Dorn, you wouldn't think about laying a hand on her with everyone watching, now would you?" Jim Gordon had made his appearance, eyeing the DA intensely.

"Jim." Janet gritted her teeth. "I don't see how this is any of your business."

"It's my business to know and my job to have you charged with assault even if you _are_ the District Attorney," Gordon answered, unrattled. "I just came to break it up."

Rachel quickly wrestled herself out of Van Dorn's grasp and brushed past them, ready to get out of this place and go home to Jonathan and Verity. But Van Dorn wasn't ready to give up that easily. She quickly caught up to Rachel.

"You listen to me," she growled viciously under her breath. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. I'm beginning to think that there's more to you than meets the eye. Defending almost everyone against us, even your Scarecrow. Who by all accounts hasn't been found for nearly a year. I'm wondering if…"

"I am not hiding him out," Rachel hissed. "You are mistaken."

"But if I find it out…who knows what I can do. I can do worse than what you claim Bolton did to the inmates. I'll might as well let some hired guards of my own to have a little fun with him. After all, men _do_ have needs…."

Rachel nearly puked at the image of her lover and secret fiancée being subjected to treatment similar to what he'd gone through in Arkham. _No, that won't happen_ , she silently promised _. I won't let it happen._

 _Oh, God. I need to get him out of here and fast. Time to call Harleen_.

Under half an hour later, she had the deed done and had just contacted Harleen again for the results.

"Is he safe?" Rachel asked on her mobile later that day when she fled the office in a rush. She was in dire of a hurry to leave the scrutinizing eyes of Janet Van Dorn. A theory had been wriggling in her mind ever since that woman threatened Jonathan; the new face who had yet to reveal herself was a female, but the name was unknown. If Talia knew this upcoming villain was a woman, then how could she not know who it was?

 _I think it's Janet. It has to be, because she hates all the criminals with the upmost passion. Why else would she threaten me, Jonathan, and the others?_

 _"He's safe, Rachel,"_ Harleen answered, and she could just picture the blonde smiling. _"He's at the house, waiting for you. I have to go now, but I'll keep in touch."_

"Thanks, Harleen," Rachel said gratefully. "Don't know what I'd do without you." She quickly hung up as soon as she stepped on the bus, prepared to head for Joker's place. The clown didn't always stop for the same place, but he'd left her the message saying that he was staying at the shutdown haunted house in the state fair. She laughed to herself, thinking that the haunted house was someplace Scarecrow would hide out. She needed him and him only to give her the lift to the location Harleen gave her; her car was broken in the engine for a second time, and it wasn't her fault.

First Jonathan and the baby. Then prep for a very small, private wedding ceremony witnessed only by their few friends.

 **The trial with Jill White was from "Madea Goes to Jail", if anyone is familiar with that movie.**

 **Now there is MORE trouble, as I promised. Staying at Jonathan's father's home was close enough to a place outside of Gotham was the best option, and there's a certain happy moment coming up soon. :D After that is when the real danger begins.**

 **Read and review. :)**


	13. Newlywed Bliss

**Jonathan's father's home was based off of this real manor I found online, and its name is Riverfront Mansion. I didn't have it in me to change any of its details presented in here.**

Chapter Thirteen

Newlywed Bliss

Crane Mansion had taken months to renovate, so it was amazing that Rachel had managed to pull strings to do this for him, by renewing his father's old home that had been his mother's, Jonathan's grandmother. He gazed upon it with great admiration now that he was coming back with renewed spirit. It had five bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms, as well as a timeless, ancient European style - quite unique compared to other homes even though it hadn't been inhabited for years.

From every window you could see the landscape crawling with large trees and decorative hedges. Fireplaces were built in almost every room from top to bottom. The river running wild could also be seen from the back windows; wildflowers dotted the grass. A modest but charming garden of sweet peas, primroses, and lilies dominated the soil beds under the windows; passion flowers were draped in an arch over the main doorway. _All of Rachel's favorite flowers_ , Jonathan thought with a smile. He had never been one to care for plants, but if this made his bride-to-be happy, then so be it.

Last of all, there was a low, tasteful iron fence dividing the grass from the river so that when Verity was older, she could be safe playing out back. Another fence of iron protected the front of the property; both were swarming with roses of a vibrant, passionate red, their petals drenching the air with a luxurious tea and honey aroma.

Verity cooed and giggled at her new surroundings, making Jonathan laugh. "You like it, huh, little girl?" he crooned, bouncing her up and down in his arms, holding her closer. "Because we're going to be here for a while, baby."

Lupa sniffed about her new home; Harleen had dropped him off, but she would be back soon, she said. Rachel was still on her way here.

It wasn't until what felt like an eternity that they heard the sound of a vehicle outside, and Jonathan quickly dashed for the nearest window there was, gazing out at the crystal clear view. A dirty white van he didn't recognize pulled into the smooth rock driveway, but then the riders and driver piled out. He first saw Rachel, and then Joker. Then Harleen Quinzelle. And finally…

 _Oh, my God. Talia al Ghul._

~o~

"Oh, this place is amazing," Harleen squealed as she stood before the majestic, rustic place. "And today I finally get to see it finished. This is perfect for you guys." She turned around to face Rachel. "Well, what's next for you guys now?"

Rachel turned around to the others. She looked down at her feet, shuffling them nervously as she tried to think of a way to tell them. _Oh, girl, get a grip; just tell them! They're your friends._ "Jonathan and I are engaged again."

They looked at her for a long moment, before Harleen broke out into screaming laughter and flew forward, throwing her arms around Rachel and spinning her around in a circle. Joker joined her with a cackle of joy, while Talia smiled with approval. "Oh, Rachel, Rachel, _Rachel!_ " Harleen sang out, ceasing the spinning around and grasping her by both forearms. "My girl getting married to the man of her dreams again! I wish you both the best!"

Rachel gently wrenched herself free. "I know, Harl. But please…" She looked desperately at her then the others. "…do not breathe a word of this. I want to keep everybody safe. This could build up a bigger problem."

Joker made the motion of zipping his scarred lips up, locking them in place, then tossing the key away. "My lips are sealed, beautiful."

Talia walked over and placed a hand on her back, turning to lead her into the manor. The old Crane estate. Her new home.

Her, Jonathan, and Verity's new home.

She found them both in the foyer. The walls were warm golden beige and hung with old-fashioned sconces and tapetries with Celtic knots and mosaic patterns. The curved staircase was dark, same with the framed doorway leading to the sitting room and kitchen. A rug of white tiger fur rested before the doorway. Lupa sniffed it curiously before backing away with a little whimper. Rachel laughed as she knelt down to pet the dog's head. "Oh, you poor thing. It's just a rug." Lupa looked at her with wide eyes telling her that an innocent animal had been killed for decoration. She nudged her face against Rachel's knee for comfort.

"She doesn't agree with you," Jonathan told her with a smug grin.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I can see that."

He looked around. "This looks perfect for Verity to grow. For us to live." His blue eyes casted downwards to the little one. "Except we can't stay for long."

"I know." Rachel sighed heavily before turning around upon hearing the door open. In strolled their guests. "I was wondering when you guys were going to join us," she said with a laugh. "Jonathan, look who's here."

"Aw, Verity!" Harleen cooed as she leaned over the baby, who only stared up at her with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth. "You doing good, girl?"

"That she is, hmmmm," Joker agreed, slipping behind her so he was peering over her shoulder to eye the baby with admiration. By the way he lounged forward, Rachel had the feeling that he was close to grinding himself against her therapist's backside…

"Talia al Ghul," Jonathan said tersely, turning his head around so he was facing the daughter of the man he'd cooperated with for releasing his toxin in the Narrows. Rachel rose from Lupa's side to watch them exchange.

"Crane," her mentor and friend answered back. "You look well."

"I've been doing well," Jonathan replied coolly. For the first time, Rachel recognized a slight trace of hostility in her fiancée. "And I wonder where you have been since the fiasco in the Narrows and the 'loss' of your father."

"My father's body was retrieved from the monorail crash, and we gave him a proper burial. After he was laid to rest, I took up his mantle, Jonathan. Now I am finishing his work, honoring him, but I won't destroy Gotham the way he wanted to. I'll be here for the rest of my days while recruiting new League members every day, and I am here for Rachel until she finishes the new hidden threat."

~o~

Rachel was still downstairs, so Jonathan decided to explore more of the house that he abandoned as a young man. It was the same as he remembered, but so...different. He encountered a kitchen as equally rustic, natural, warm and welcoming as the rest of this place; gray-stone-tiled floors and soft tan-and-gold stoned walls and stove overhead, polished wooden countertops and an island, a durable silver stovetop, an old-fashioned rose-painted stove backsplash, and enough cupboards to hold the needed necessities.

The sitting room was more modern but still comfortable. Opulent red curtains were draping the windows on either side of the stoned fireplace. The sitting chairs and sofa were floral-embossed and either soft beige or red. A chandelier of dark antlers hung the ceiling.

Taking the stairs, he heard the sound of feet - or rather paws - following him. The hallways were endless like a tunnel, lit by round overhead lightings, but he eventually found his and Rachel's room. Not caring about the neutral-colored walls and other furniture, his eyes landed on the majestic, queen-sized canopy bed overlaid with pure silk sheets of gem-toned ruby red and a light timber wolf fur blanket, its solid wood framing of pine and veneers. Antique finishes completed the luxurious look. _Beautiful,_ Jonathan thought with a smile. _Beautiful, and perfect._ He smiled first at the sight before him, then down at his daughter who was smiling at him.

The autumn season was nearing its end, marking this as a new, cozier place if only they didn't leave so soon. Now that he was back in a newly renovated version of his childhood home, seeing the comforts for the first time, he felt like he didn't want to leave now. Just spend a few days with Rachel, the baby and their friends. He took a deep breath as he looked at the bed that was his and Rachel's; how ironic this used to be his parents'...

 _ **No, Jonathan. They're not here anymore. Don't think about the past now.**_

But how could you ever forget years of being a substitute subject for your own father in the basement, which he would _NOT_ go down to?

Verity grunted in his arms, and he glanced down at her, tenderness welling up in his face. She was happy; he could see that. He looked back up at the great bed, the bed where he and Rachel would one day resume what they shared, both healed from old wounds.

"Look," he said to the wolf flanking him like she did to Rachel. "There's your resting place." He nodded at the foot of the bed to where the large, round, brown velvet cushion lay. She happily trotted over and curled herself up, falling fast asleep after the long day.

 _ **Worn out after moving day,**_ Scarecrow said, and they both chuckled.

~o~

Sadly, Rachel had to return to her apartment. _Alone_ , she thought as she opened the door to her contemporary southwestern-themed spot. _But not fully alone now. Jonathan is safe. Joker and Talia will be watching him, and Harleen and I will be in touch._

Rachel closed the door behind her and moved for the bedroom. She headed for the bedroom to prepare for dinner and then bed, but then something caught her attention. An envelope lay on the paradise pattern of her bed. Frowning, she walked over and picked it up. It wasn't sealed, so she easily slipped it out and opened it.

 _ **Beware, friend and foe of the law. I know who you are, and I know what you are. The time will come when we meet face-to-face. It won't be pretty.**_

 _Oh, God, our new enemy,_ Rachel thought, heart thumping madly. _She knows who I am, she knows where I live. What am I going to do?_

 _I should tell Harleen._

She quickly pulled her cell out and dialed her right away.

 _"Rachel, what's wrong?"_ the blonde asked after the second ring.

"She knows," Rachel whispered in horror. "She knows about me. She knows I'm hiding Jonathan."

 _"Oh, no; God help us,"_ was the despairing reply. _"Okay, Rachel, listen. I want you to get out of there now. Does this person know where he is?"_

Rachel looked first at the note in her hand and then back up at nothing in particular. "Not that I know of."

 _"Well, just to be safe, pack what you need and I'll come pick you up. I'm risking my job for this, but I'll take you to the manor so you're safe, okay?"_

She did not want her best friend losing anything she had over her patient-friend and a wanted man who was her best friend's husband-to-be. Rachel felt relieved for the moment, until she realized there was her job to consider. "But, the office…"

 _"If you're saying it's Van Dorn, then your friend Talia can look into it. For now, put in a leave of absence and have someone else take your place. At least until all this is sorted out."_

After hanging up, Rachel took her advice and packed all she needed into one suitcase. Including her costume and weaponry. She wasn't worried about this, because Jonathan, Verity and their friends involved were all she gave her priorities on. Her secret was safe. For now.

By the next day, she had her leave of absence and was at the estate.

 _"Thank you so much for saving me,"_ Jill White said over the phone later that same day. Rachel had taken matters into her own hands and released the girl on bail out of the kindness of her heart.

"No need to thank me," Rachel answered with a smile. "You're free until trial date. But it shouldn't be that bad of a sentence. I'll make sure of it. However, you cannot tell anyone I'm taking sides of the defendants. Imagine what they'll talk about."

 _"I know what you mean,"_ Miss White answered with a little laugh. _"But Janet Van Dorn is just so…evil."_ She shuddered. _"I know Harvey Dent was far more kinder and lenient than she was."_

The mention of her old boyfriend brought a sad smile to her face. "He was." Rachel turned to look over her shoulder when Harleen called her from the other room.

"Rachel, are you coming?"

"In a moment!" Rachel answered back, before returning to the conversation. "Listen, Miss White. I have to go. But look for Jim Gordon and ask for his help for your trial date. He's a good friend of mine, and he's a great man. One of the few."

 _"Thank you,"_ the girl said again before hanging up.

"Things went good?" Harleen asked with a smile, hunched over a cardboard box she opened. Rachel eyed it with interest, assuming this was her wedding dress that she had forgotten to open months ago. Also assuming it was still in great shape. After the revelation of the note to the rest of the group, the plans for the wedding had to proceed with great haste. However, Rachel had no idea what the theme for the small ceremony was, but she trusted the ladies with their surprise.

"Yes, they did," Rachel answered with a smile. "How is the planning?"

Talia glanced her way with a wink. "You'll love it. Harls, is the dress still in the best condition?"

"You bet it is," Harleen answered, beaming as she held up the completed ensemble still in its clear covering, and Rachel's eyes widened at the incredible image of the first step into her new life she would share with Jonathan the second time around.

~o~

When he arrived in the bedroom, he saw Rachel was lying in the new bed, wearing her favorite turquoise satin slip. She had been waiting for him, and during her wait, she took in how their new surroundings were all so open than her apartment, with the large bay window directly opposite the bed, shrouded in crimson curtains, stark against the warm walls. A dresser and cozy-looking armchair of the same wood as the bed was nestled in one corner. The door Jonathan just came out led into the bathroom, and he was wearing a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and his torso bare to her eyes. He felt his mouth watering at the sight of her, his body slowly renewing its fire he thought had been taken from him at Arkham. "You look beautiful," he said as he joined her, slipping under the covers with her and kissing her neck, making her moan.

"Verity asleep?" she asked as she nestled under the covers further, drawing them up to her chin. He nodded and joined her, facing her full front.

"Yeah, I put her down for the night. Not that she'll be asleep for long," he added jokingly, and they both laughed. Verity had been crying in the middle of the night for the last few nights for either a nappie change or her formula meal. Babies were notorious for crying the first few months of life, and that meant little sleep for the parents. It also meant more time for the kid and less time for each other.

"Well, you know, this happens with a newborn. The best thing you can do is try to find time for each other. It's hard, but it'll always be worth it, I think," Rachel promised him. He chuckled and agreed with her. As soon as she said that, he pondered what they would do on their wedding night, which was a tradition for newlyweds. They'd had sex before, only once since that one night, and it had been so long...

And she'd read his mind as he was in the middle of kissing her shoulder. "Jonathan, you know once we're married, there's the traditional..."

"Wedding night," he finished for her with a coy smile. It amazed him that after being violated more times than any of them had ever counted, as well as bearing a baby from it, he was willing again to indulge in the act with her. "I know, Rachel. I'm ready for it if that's what you were going to ask. Why should I deny us both what we have been deprived of long enough?" he murmured back with a wicked smile, his fingers moving around her side and over her stomach, making her gasp as he slid his hand up her skirt, feeling... "Oh, what is this? No underwear? That's very _naughty_ , Mrs. Crane."

"Letting it breathe."

 _ **Woo hoo, she doesn't mean it, but it sounds dirty, ya think?**_ Scarecrow cackled.

He rumbled in his throat as he moved deeper into her neck and nibbled, making her almost laugh, but laughing was not tolerated that he did the one sure thing in applying more pressure to bruise a little. She moaned then, maybe groaned; or both, since nothing was definite. He felt her hands come up as he moved over her and trapped her waist between his legs; she massaged his scalp for awhile before moving down to his naked back.

He was just about ready since he felt it down below, but she stopped it all, her hands grasping his shoulders and pulling her mouth away from his. Her lips were swollen and an even darker pink than before, bordering on mauve. "I'd rather wait till our 'special night' to regain the magic of what was taken from us," she said huskily, finger on his lips. _Damn it, it's not like we're virgins like we were in college!_ Nevertheless, he respected her wishes. Sighing, he relented and drew himself from her, laying down beside her as she slowly nuzzled away in the bed, keeping a short distance from him, hair tousled and the top of her slip askew enough to show her breasts and one aroused nipple. She teased him by rolling over on one side away from him. He only growled again with impatience. _Damn it, I'm ready for her now. We gave in before the "wedding night", so why now?_

 _ **Patience, Jonny boy. You have all the time in the world.**_

~o~

A hand squeezing her arm roused her from her peaceful sleep. Rachel opened her eyes and was just about to moan who was there when a hand quickly clamped over her mouth. "Sssh, don't wanna wake Jonny up."

"Harleen," she murmured, blinking away the sleep in her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Early enough to get you ready," was the reply as she was gently yanked from the bed and away from its warmth and Jonathan's still-sleeping form.

~o~

 _Any idea as to why I am blindfolded, Scarecrow?_

 _ **Nope. No idea.**_

Jonathan sighed in exasperation as he fidgeted helplessly. _You're not helping right now._

 _ **When was I ever NOT helpful?**_

Jonathan ignored him and stopped fidgeting. He straightened and only put his hands behind his back, waiting 'patiently'. He felt Joker's hot breath as the clown leaned forward and whispered to him. "Take it easy, Jonny. It's gonna start soon."

Jonathan was getting tired of all these secrets. What were they planning anyway? He growled. "Wish you would just tell me what's going on."

Joker sniggered in response. "Sorry. No spoiling the surprise."

Some more minutes passed, making the wait feel like eternity, until the blindfold was yanked off his eyes, and Jonathan found himself first at himself, at the black formal suit, and then at his surroundings. Here he was behind the manor, in a more isolated, natural setting. The sunlight gave way through the trees. Colorful leaves scattered about, and a _very_ large pumpkin was placed between him and Talia, who was in a black dress with intricate gold detail, and her jewelry was beaded medallions. The pumpkin's stem sported the wedding ring he got Rachel, and with it another of sterling silver with an onyx inlay set with a…crow?

Was this what he thought it was?

He saw Joker beside him in a very dark green suit instead of his usual purple, but his scarred face was painted messily as always. Verity, in his arms, had been dressed up in a cute little brown dress with a silken waist bow, and it made Jonathan's heart leap at how adorable his baby daughter looked today. She was watching him with _his eyes_ mirrored back at him.

He felt the wind pick up, and quickly turned his head from his child in time to see find himself staring at his Rachel approaching them barefoot...and he was on fire at the sight of the femme fatale coming his way.

The dress she wore was a striking, statuesque silhouette highlighting her every curves, embellished from the neckline down to the wealthy ruffles of the flaring train. Her hair was in romantic ringlets down her back, some cascading over one shoulder, her forehead accented with a jewel in the colors of October, the necklace above her heart a ravishing green emerald in a filigree of gold ivy detailing. She was everything more than he imagined.

She was accompanied by Harleen behind her, who was in a short, simple red dress with spaghetti straps and a low V-neck, both carrying bouquets of ivy vines with roses of red and white. Lupa the wolf flanked like the proud beast she was. Rachel did not stop until she was standing before him. It was finally happening. He was going to have her as his wife at last. This time he would not let her leave him again. They would always belong to each other in body and mind. _Forever_.

They spoke no words as they stared at each other while Talia began to speak about how the man should honor his wife, and how the woman should treat her husband and honor him. This was the _Katb el-Kitab_ , or the marriage contract, the traditional marriage ceremony in the Arabic way, but without the father to sign the contract and mark the marriage as official. Instead the bride and groom exchanged their vows and the rings, and ended it with a kiss that pronounced them husband and wife. Everyone cheered for them while the wolf howled to the sky and sent the message that no one would tear these two apart again.

Jonathan had never been happier. He gazed down first at the new ring with the crow on his left hand, and then at hers that he held in both hands, the diamonds shining bright. _She's mine, Scarecrow. She's all mine until we wither and die together._

 _ **Congrats. That's all I got to say.**_

Scarecrow didn't say anymore, and he was grateful. He and his new bride were led back into the house by their friends in time to see the surprise that had been set up for them besides outside. The table had been centered with a large creamy white cake, decorated in the most quintessential rustic, nature-inspired fashion he'd ever seen. It rested on a tree trunk stand, with mini pumpkins, winding branches, and yellow and orange flowers. Rachel sounded breathless as she asked, "You did all this…for us?" Jonathan looked at her in surprise. He was amazed that she had no idea about all this. He'd have assumed she played a part in the theme as part of tradition.

Harleen smiled at her as she gently bounced Verity in her arms, having taken her from Joker, making the child giggle. "We did it all just for you."

Talia stepped forth. "And as appreciation, I would like to give you both a gift." She held up a small box with an opened top, and Jonathan saw what was inside.

Two pendants of the same design. The wolf painting was exquisite against the sterling silver-and-gold highlighted feather. "Talia, they're gorgeous," Rachel whispered as she fingered the seamless textures.

Talia smiled at her as she slipped one out and fastened it around her neck, the wolf a piece of art against the valley between her breasts. "The spirit of the wolf," she explained as she gave Jonathan his. "To protect you both and to guide you. To bind you together no matter what."

~o~

Harleen offered to take care of Verity while the newlyweds retired for the night. The room was darkened, but lit faintly by the light of the moon shining through the open window. Rachel felt her nerves pick up with excitement as she led Jonathan into their room, Lupa going in first and going straight for her bed. She yawned, which made them both laugh, before she turned her head away from them altogether and giving them their privacy.

 _It's time_.

"Rachel," he breathed against her neck, pulling her close to him so her back pressed against his chest. "How does it feel to be my wife once again?" He purred and growled as he kissed her shoulder, doing his job with nibbling her again, which she had grown to love by now. This was more than she ever wanted between them, to feel the love in the midst of the raw pleasure. This was what she wanted to feel tonight after so long of being abstinent.

"Feels...wonderful," she moaned out, tilting her head to the side and allowing him to reach the vulnerable spot at the base of her neck and shoulder, the sensitive flesh over her jugular vein. "Don't stop that, please. I love it when you...do that."

"Do you?" Jonathan chuckled deep against her. "Well, don't think this will be over anytime soon. I'll tease you all night this way if I have to..." His hands were exploring her body now, from her hips to her abdomen, and upwards to cup both of her breasts, unable to find the slowly hardening tips. "You're all mine, and I won't let you go again." He let her go then only to grasp her arms and turn her around to possess her mouth ravenously, and she welcomed it with the primitive hunger that had been kept locked in its cage long enough, allowing it to roam free.

His hands held her closer, roaming over her bared back and arms to further seduce her into his spell. She reached up and removed her forehead piece and then the necklace with the emerald that had been a present from Harley for the wedding, but she left the beautiful wolf charm from Talia over her heart. Because soon she and Jonathan would make ravishing, beastly love under the fur blanket of the bed very soon. "Jonathan, please," she gasped. "I love you."

She didn't say it directly, but she wanted him to make her his again, and he was more than willing. He was looking deep into her eyes, his own darkening to an ocean hue like the dangerous depths of the Atlantic. His hands stopped caressing her skin and were now working on the back of her dress, undoing the laces as skillfully and quickly as he could without tearing it; she wanted to pass this dress down to Verity one day, now that the thought crossed her mind. As soon as he was done and opened the back to expose more air and raise goosebumps, she shivered and felt like a virgin once again when he pushed down the dress and left her to his eyes. He distracted her by leaning down and giving her a sweet, gentle kiss like she was something very precious to him, but it didn't last as she hastily freed him out of his clothing, and he picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on fur and silk satin. He tortured her sweetly, this time targeting her breasts and sensitive parts, as well as the green veins showing, shooting from all parts of the outsides of her areolas to throughout the domes.

Her breasts weren't all that he tormented. His hands gripped her thighs and spread them apart so he could dip one down to play with between her thighs, her dark heat waiting for him. _You're losing it...losing control like before. That's what you want; you're not fighting him anymore._ She moaned at his fingers ending her train of thought when his fingers found her sweet-spot and made her jolt. He chuckled and smirked evilly. "That tells me how much you missed me. And this..." He removed her fingers only to replace them with the base of his own thighs pressing against hers, making her gasp. "...shows how much I've missed _you._ "

"God, Jonathan, don't make me wait anymore."

"With pleasure."

Since she was molten enough, he slid into her without much of any preparation. She cried out at the filling of him in her, completing them into one. Not caring if the walls were soundproof or not, she screamed to the heavens in bliss, allowing her new husband to ravish her once again as he repeatedly slammed into her, no tenderness asked for. The dresser mirror was on the other end, showing his nude back and all but not allowing the bride herself to see; she was too focused on this to even care about looking at Jonathan from behind in the mirror. If either of them noticed, they would see that the "vines" in her skin darkened to black with desire and throbbing in time with the connection of the two of them beneath the covers.

"Rachel...!"

Uttering her name near the end, Jonathan threw his head back and growled like a wolf and moaned near enough to match the creature's howl to the moon as he fell off the cliff and then on top of her. The remaining heated waves of white-hot pleasure lingered in post-coital bliss as the moon shone its blessing on their wedded bliss.

 **I really had it feeling pretty hot when I did their wedding night. ;) Nothing but dominance between those two as it was in "On the Brink of Control" as well as in "Promises and Threats". Dominance and tenderness are both in Jonathan's book. He even called her a femme fatale at one point during the original story, and truer words have never been spoken.**

 **The Katb el-Kitab is a real Arabic wedding tradition, the steps in it being the same manner as explained.**

 **As always, read and review. :)**


	14. Fertility Issues

**One intimacy scene in here was inspired by one from Fifty Shades Darker, or Fifty Shades Freed. It's been awhile since I read either one, but one scene in particular in bits I remember vividly. ;)**

Chapter Fourteen

Fertility Issues

When she opened her eyes, she felt her husband's back against her, her chest against said part of his body. She let him go and rolled onto her back, stretching and sighing, trying not to wake him up as she looked over to see the sun shining into the room. She sat up and rotated her shoulders to show how flexible she still felt after four times last night. _I feel like a new woman._ She smiled, feeling the fur fall and the rush of air caress her naked breasts. _I'm no longer Miss Dawes. I'm Mrs. Crane now._

 _Mrs. Rachel Crane._ Her rings shimmered in the light, telling her that everything was going to be different.

 _And I wonder what form of different. Now that I'll think of it all now._ She gazed down at her new husband sleeping peacefully on his side; "husband" was a truly wonderful word to use. They were never going to be parted again. His face was relaxed and missing his glasses which lay on the dresser. His dark raven hair was all over the place, his leanly muscled chest gently rising up and down as he breathed in and out. Sadly the glimmering red silk hid his lower body from her eyes. Giggling a little, Rachel reached over to pull the rich fabric away, exposing him to her eyes. He let out a little sound and rolled on his back, facing her, but he didn't wake…yet. His hips were growing curves; the pelvic bones still visible but barely now. His long, lean legs were splayed slightly open, inviting her in. She snaked silently over, careful not to touch him and wake him, and bent her head forward so that her face was inches away from his erect member nestled among the regrown patch of hair. _Early morning hard-on…_ she thought naughtily.

Rachel hesitated for a moment. She'd never performed oral sex before, not that she didn't want to, but she'd been told that it was bitter-tasting and disgusting. Well, that was other girls' opinions, anyway. Everyone had their own opinions.

She slowly let her tongue out and licked the head of Jonathan's sex, feeling the smoothness of the skin. He tasted a bit acrid, but still…he was rather sweet, at the same time. She further tested by putting her lips around it and giving it an experimental tug into her mouth, sucking gently.

Jonathan moaned, and she raised her eyes to him, following the contours of his body up to his face. He was still sleeping, but he stirred a little. That didn't stop Rachel from continuing her job. She slowly continued by drawing the organ further into her mouth until it hit the back of her mouth. Her husband's moaning grew louder, prompting her to suck him harder and harder until finally, his head began to roll side to side, and his eyes shot open to meet hers.

~o~

Jonathan roused from his sleep, smiling at the feeling of pleasure in his groin, wondering if he was dreaming…until he opened his eyes and looked down to see the source: his new wife's lips were wrapped around his early-morning erection and performing oral pleasures on him. She'd never given him this, and it made him realize that he'd never given any to her.

 _ **Well, well, well, that's a newbie.**_ Scarecrow howled with laughter. _**I hear amateur falletio is the best kind.**_

 _Shut up…and yes, you are right,_ Jonathan responded, and his alter was right; the feeling was… _magnificent._ He uttered a shuddering moan in spite of himself when Rachel's tongue slid up the underside of his length, her nose pushing through the curls and prodded against his pubic bone. Her eyes shot up to make contact with his. He smirked down at her.

"You're not even remotely thinking of stopping now, are you, _Mrs._ Crane?" he purred down at her.

She did release him from her mouth then, but only to answer. "Not even the slightest."

She did continue the job there, performing the old suck and lick routine, wet velvety heat bringing Jonathan closer and closer to the edge, the coverage similar to that of the heat between her legs. His loins tightened as he neared climax, and when he unraveled and exploded, she drank down every drop of him much to his own embarrassment. But she smirked and sat back on her haunches. She clearly wanted to be the one to take control; well he wasn't going to let that happen just yet anyway.

He sat up so he was meeting her gaze, the challenge clearly there. "I started this," she teased, "so be the gentleman and let me finish."

"Oh, really? My little rose wants me to be the gentleman now?" He reached over and took her by the arms, falling back and rolling over so he was fully on top of her, holding her wrists so they were above her head. He gazed down at her possessively. "I'd fight you any day, Mrs. Crane. In fact, subduing you in bed is a real life fantasy of mine." He kissed her throat.

"Don't you always?" she sneered and grinned at the same time.

"You awoke me with oral pleasure," he returned, "now I get to reverse our roles."

They went at it again, wild and frenzied as last night. Months of abstinence and separation having been worth it. And now his wife trailed her fingers through his hair, the pleasure-numbing sensations no different than the times she'd wash his hair for him. Scarecrow was hooting for him. _**Well,**_ **that w** _ **as quite the ride, eh, Jonny boy?**_

 _Yes. I haven't indulged in such resistance since night one._

"You're quiet," Rachel noted, interrupting his thoughts. He shifted so they were face to face.

"Just Scarecrow again. He's being himself, as ever." _**The hell you're talking about ME!**_

She laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder with just a swing of her head. "Would he object if I asked if you wanted anymore…little ones in the future? Someday?"

Jonathan felt like the world had stopped altogether. She just asked him… _**Shit, does she really want to know this now? Do you even want any more sprouts? As long as they're not from anyone else?**_

 _Don't even THINK about going there._ "You mean…children? Us?"

He saw the terror in her eyes - no, worry. Things with Verity were rather smooth, but should any more additions arrive… "Yes," she answered in a timid voice, a rarity he'd ever seen in her. "One day."

He smiled at her. The idea was promising enough. Once all of this was blown over, he decided. He pulled her to him, kissing her passionately, and they made love once more in their state of newly wedded bliss.

~o~

She couldn't have any form of human contact over phone or anywhere, other than to Harleen, so there was no way she could call Bruce for anything, not that they spoke much anymore. But perhaps that was for the best. Rachel would rather die than endanger the life of one of her dearest friends…especially for this. She would ask Harleen, but she seemed a bit busy with Joker someplace. But she had to know, and she needed to know now.

Talia was the only one she could console here about fertility. A woman of a world more mysterious than this one, she had her ways of determining fertility and infertility. She didn't want to get Jonathan's hopes up of having a second child and _then_ devastate him with bad news.

However, on her way out into the hallway, now in a soft blouse with eyelit lace and jeans, hair in a ponytail, Rachel nearly ran into Harleen, who was just stumbling out of her bedroom at the same time.

Or rather, she should say Harleen _and_ Joker stumbled out of her bedroom… _TOGETHER_. Rachel felt the bile rise in her stomach and nearly fell over herself. All the way onto the floor.

"Wha - oh, Rachel, good morning!" Harleen's face split into a wide grin. "Did you and the hubby get a _good night's sleep_?" She winked suggestively, the clown joining in with a wink…and for the first time Rachel saw him without his makeup. He looked so different, younger, handsome though the Cheshire scars were evident as they were when he wore his face paint…but that didn't distract her from the fact that he was s _hirtless_ and in _sleep pants_ , with Harley beside him in a black silk robe dotted all over in red with her light hair all mussed up.

"Oh. My. _God_." She pronounced each word with slow disdain. "You two…I -" She couldn't find the words to say. "Oh, God no." She shook her head and hurried past them for Verity's room, the baby's cries heard less than a yard away.

Verity's room was designed almost exactly like her parents', but the curtains on the windows were sheer white and clean, and filled with everything an infant would be supplied with in the shelves and the drawers of the Old World-fashioned dressers. Rachel gave a little light laugh as she scooped up her cooing daughter into her arms.

"Slept well last night, didn't you?" she asked, bouncing her up and down before noticing that she needed a change and feeding. After taking care of the first, she left the nursery and nearly tripped over something that blocked her in the doorway unexpectedly. Looking down, she saw that Lupa stood on all fours. Frowning, Rachel scolded, "Girl, be careful next time. You want me and this little lady to fall and get hurt that way?" The dog whimpered and bowed her head in shame, the sight catching a piece of her heart altogether. "Aww, don't be sad. Just be careful next time." She bent forward with Verity secured in one arm, her other free hand going down to tenderly pat the wolf's snout, giggling at the sensations of receiving a rewarding lick.

She found Talia in the kitchen, preparing what looked like a delectable Asian fruit dish for everyone. The sight was relaxing, seeing her former mentor and cherished friend prepare breakfast for everyone. She smiled when she saw Rachel walk in with the baby in one arm. "I sense newlywed bliss."

"That's because I'm very happy this morning." Rachel put Verity down in the high chair and crossed over to the cabinets for some mush for her. "Except I have some..." She hesitated for a moment. "...doubts," she finished in a low voice, finding some applesauce and putting it in a little red plastic bowl and serving to Verity.

Talia's brow furrowed as she walked around the island to where mother and daughter were. "Do tell me what it is."

"I have a feeling - but I hope I'm wrong," Rachel added nervously, looking behind her briefly to the doorway, seeing that Jonathan had not yet entered and neither did the unlikely "clown duo", "but I have a feeling the venom that Bolton put in me that night may have affected my ovaries. Jonathan and I talked about having more kids, but I have to be sure." She looked back. "I can't have him know yet, so I need your help."

To determine any other fertility rate of a woman at home without having to go to the hospital, an ovulation predictor kit had to be needed, but ovulation occurred in the middle of the monthly cycle, and it had been _months_ since Rachel last had her period. No bleeding, no cramps, nothing. And she wasn't brave enough to take one of the standard tests bought from store, and Talia took a blood sample for a private examination of her own.

Rachel was busy fastening a gauze-covered cotton fabric around her lower forearm, where the needle had been inserted into the vein, looking at her reflection in the washroom mirror, seeing the otherworldly, flawless face enhanced by little green veins in the neck, dark rose lips, and hollowed, darkened eyes, all framed by a thick curtain of brown hair covering her ears. A shadow of the old Rachel that Gotham knew, would soon fall out of interest with her and forget about her if they ever knew of her "betrayal". _They don't know what betrayal is._

She had done all the research she did about pregnancy and childbirth; even Jonathan during that taught her a lot, those months they spent together before Bolton took him away for the second and last time. It was painful, so she could imagine how much it hurt Jonathan when he brought Verity into the world, and since he was male - well, half or mostly - it could have killed him. And he _had_ lost a lot of blood then.

There was a knock on the door then. Rachel jumped, worried that it would be Jonathan, and he would start asking her what was wrong; he never stopped until he had what he wanted, after all. To her relief, it was only Talia. With a solemn expression, so that had to be bad news as she'd predicted. "Let me guess…"

"The poisons increased your hyperactive immune system, so that you are invulnerable to all toxins and diseases," the other woman began, voice lowered, "but as you know, it comes with a price. I analyzed your blood, but the ovulation rate is little to none, so that means…" There was a definite sadness in her eyes. "...I'm sorry, but no more children. At least, not your own."

~o~

Jonathan had been thinking about this for awhile now, given everything that had happened over the last several months. He believed it was all for the best, but Scarecrow was less than enthralled.

 _ **You can't be serious, Jonny! This is your life, and you know it!**_

 _Being a husband and a father is about support...and making sacrifices,_ Jonathan countered back. He had entered the kitchen to find it mostly empty, well, save for one. Verity sat in her high chair eating her mash, and getting really messy, too. The sight of her getting applesauce all over her cherubic face made him laugh and shake his head. He marched over and picked her up, carrying her over to the sink to clean her. "You're one messy little girl, you know that?" He wiped her face off with a towel laying on the counter, making her giggle and try to grab it with both her tiny hands in a laughable life-and-death struggle.

 _ **But you've ALWAYS been fascinated by fear, and you can't even survive without it!**_ Scarecrow screamed in his mind, and that was the final straw.

 _Enough of you! I've made my decision, end of story. And as soon as all of this is over, and this mysterious new menace is out of the picture, I'm taking my wife_ and _my daughter out of here, go someplace safer for the both of us._

 _ **And go where, exactly? Chicago, like you talked about? Somewhere they don't know your name, eh?**_

 _That's exactly it,_ Jonathan answered with a smile of pride. _I can always get a job teaching psychology again, and Rachel can stay home with the baby..._ He stopped right there. _But I doubt she will want to give up her identity just for my sake and Verity's._

His alter laughed cruelly. _**Say, isn't marriage where a woman gives up all of herself for her man and the kids, just to keep the household in order?**_

Jonathan considered this. _Not for me. I'll talk to her about this; we can always get a babysitter._

"Oh!" Spinning around, he saw his new bride standing in the doorway. He smiled at her, but it faded as quickly as it came. She looked sick, mostly in her eyes since her skin tone would always match every physical emotion.

"What is it, love?" He walked over to her, Verity now in his arms, who put one of her tiny hands to her mouth out of habit.

Rachel looked down to the ground. "I have...bad news, Jonathan." He frowned at the barely audible whisper of her voice. Instantly, his protective instincts picked up. "What we talked about this morning...about having more children..."

Scarecrow was there before either of them. _**Looks like the treatment Bolton gave her deprived you guys of that. Chances of another baby now are slim to none, it seems.**_

 _Silence so I can console my wife._ It broke his heart that Rachel wanted to have a child that came from her own body and not him, this time, but that did not mean he loved her any less. Jonathan cursed Bolton to the high heavens, or maybe to the hell he belonged, and wrapped his free arm around Rachel, pulling her close and kissing her brow in an effort to calm the stifling sobs she tried to keep from escaping...and failed.

 **When Pamela Isley herself contracted her own powers, her hyper-immune system left the same effect on her, unable to have children in BTAS. :( It's a really sad story in "House and Garden", where she left Arkham and tried to live a normal life. Married her doctor and settled down to help him raise his two kids from a previous marriage, which I brought in "Elizabeth and the Scarecrow".**


	15. War with a Vendetta

**Not now, but the end is near, and I'm happy with how this story has come out so far. :D**

Chapter Fifteen

War with a Vendetta

"Aww, so you can't have any babies of your own?" Harleen stuck her lower lip out in a pout as she helped Rachel changed Verity's diaper. The baby kicked her legs upon finish, cooing happily up at her mother and being picked up afterwads, held close and leaning her head against her mother's breast.

"Nope." Rachel shook her head, still sad at the discovery but also relieved that she wouldn't have to go through the pain of the birthing process she researched about, learning that some, if not all, women died from it. "So, where did your new man go?" It still disgusted her that she just _had_ to see her former therapist and best friend exit a room with the Clown Prince of Crime, the man who killed Harvey and so many other innocent people, gone now - and the fact that Harleen had a childish _nickname_ for the clown. He'd taken off this early afternoon, claiming he had some "business" to take care of.

Harleen shrugged nonchalantly. "Mistah J just had some work to do. Maybe what he does best, and you can't keep a man from work after all."

"I'm imagining he'll just get himself back into Arkham again." Jonathan announced himself as he walked into the nursery, wrapping his arms around Rachel's waist and holding her close, kissing her neck and nuzzling. She moaned and melted into it while keeping her hold on the baby. However, her mind was too full of earlier's memories of the conversation she and Jonathan returned to over the decision to leave Gotham once this mysterious new menace was taken out. A part of her was second-guessing now because she still had a duty to honor, and that was to clean up the streets as Poison Ivy. Van Dorn and those following her lead certainly weren't doing it any better, and more and more criminals were getting locked away every day that had passed by; a job for Rachel that had been going nowhere for her all this time. "If he does, he's _never_ getting out," she told Jonathan, who simply scoffed and shook his head.

"He's too insane to be put into Blackgate, my love." He kissed her cheek. "I doubt your boss would be able to win with a 'convincing argument' to put Joker in with the life-servers."

Harleen cleared her throat, getting their attention. "I'm so sorry to break this up, you two, but I have to get going. I do have a job and a life to get back to." She walked up and hugged them both.

Rachel's throat constricted. She didn't want her dear friend to leave so soon, but as she said, she did have a life, and people would notice she was missing. "I'll miss you," she choked out in spite of herself, receiving a pat on the cheek.

"Aww, Rach, don't be so blue. I'll see you soon again before you know it."

"I'm out of here, as well," Talia announcd, appearing in the doorway. "Leave the newlyweds for their alone time now," she added with a smile. "I have a mission of my own to stake out the threat. The Batman is still on his own search, but I doubt he'll be able to uncover this one in time. She's good, from what I sense."

"Good luck to you." Rachel nodded. She bounced Verity up and down, making her giggle, and helped her raise her little fist in a good-bye wave. "Say good-bye, honey."

"Good-bye to you, little one," Harleen cooed, placing a kiss on the baby's forehead. Both husband and wife found themselves in a suffocating hold from her before she let go with a sniffle and dashed after the other woman. "Ya better take care of my girl, Jonny boy!" she yelled over her shoulder, making them both laugh.

Rachel had never realized she felt a little hollow until Harleen and Talia were gone.

Later, Verity had been put down for her nap, which was her mother's cue to return to the room she shared with her new husband and change, as he'd asked her to. The only little detail he gave her was that he was preparing a dinner for two on their second night as husband and wife. The occassion wasn't anything fancy or as bridal, but it would be delectable, Jonathan had promised.

Her dress she selected was pearly pink, pleated and spaghetti-strapped, reaching the floor and having a soft bejeweled V-neck. It was dramatic and elegant at the same time. Smiling to herself, Rachel spritzed herself with her favorite perfume before looking down at Lupa, who was watching her with silent appraisal. "Well, girl, what do you think?"

Lupa walked up and gave a sniff of the skirt then whimpered and stepped back. Rachel laughed and stroked her head. "If only there was another man for you to have some alone time while I have some with my husband."

The house felt empty without the other guests around, with their various duties tearing them away from the newlyweds, but the only things that filled the void were Jonathan in the kitchen, Verity sleeping in her room, and the wolf protector herself in the "honeymoon suite". When she found herself in the kitchen, she saw that Jonathan had finished the course. She smelled something that was Japanese style, and she _loved_ Japanese. "Broiled salmon with miso glaze," Jonathan announced, turning around with the two plates, freezing instantly when his eyes fell on her. "You're beautiful," he breathed, eys flashing and darkening. He looked like he wanted to just skip dinner and move onto the dessert right now.

"That was amazing," she said once they finished at the island. "I didn't know you could make this."

"This is one of the few I know." The sooner he began to take the dishes away, she noticed the wink of his ring. The ring that literally said he was hers _._ The crow shone at her like a naughty wink. It was silently seducing her into seducing _him_ into their bed, upstairs, right now, before Verity would awake screaming for attention.

"Wha -" Jonathan laughed as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight as she nipped the bared skin of the column of his neck and then took his ear in between her teeth. "Are you trying to rile me up again, Mrs. Crane?"

"I hope so, Dr. Crane."

His voice was low. "Come here." He turned around and tugged her close, lifting her up so he carried her bridal style out of the kitchen and up the stairs, dropping her onto the bed, following her and recapturing her mouth with his.

"Mmm..." His lips explored hers, tongue darting in to mate with hers...but then it pulled away much to her disappointment. "Wait here." Rachel watched as he left her there and went to the dresser, reaching into a drawer and pulling something out. She saw it was a hot pink-colored jar, and realized it was one of those body oils used for _those_ things, and it made her tingle lower with excitement. Jonathan set the jar down on the nightstand and proceeded to grab her dress and drag it over her body, leaving her naked and showing no underwear. He smirked. "Naughty, Mrs. Crane."

"So do something about it, Dr. Crane," she challenged.

"Oh, I will." He grabbed the jar and opened it, pouring a little into his palm. The scent of strawberries drifted to her nose; it was irresistible, naturally sweet, sultry, and delicately warm. He took her hands and rubbed the oil onto them. "Touch yourself while I watch."

Shock all but coursed through her. She hesitated; she hadn't masturbated since she was in high school, so it felt really awkward. Jonathan sensed it and smiled. "Don't be shy, Rachel. Start at your little neck and work your way down." He was taking this as a new challenge, watching her pleasure herself while he sat back on his bare legs and enjoyed her pleasing her most sensitive parts.

She still wasn't sure about this, but the intense fire in his eyes made her realize she didn't have much of a choice. Still hesitating, Rachel put her hands at her throat as he told her to and allowed them slide down to the top of her breasts. Her skin warmed and tingled with the sensations. She moved lower and cupped her breasts when Jonathan commanded with one word. "Lower. Don't stop and force me to tell you how to continue." His eyes darkened more with the order, and it aroused the fire in her belly that melted down south. She moaned when she tugged on her nipples and made them harden. The sight made Jonathan groan. "Oh, _yes_. Look at what it's doing to me." His entire face fell down, and she followed; there was his quivering erection caused by her teasing herself.

Jonathan then frowned when he spotted her stopping her hand work. "Don't stop," he chided. "Continue." Rachel's skin was breaking out into a sweat as she felt her hands reached the destination of her sex, but paused. "Do as I said and touch yourself there, for me," Jonathan purred.

Rachel twitched when her fingers ghosted over and tingled her stomach until they reached the destination her husband was referring to, moving towards her sex. "That's right, Rachel," Jonathan purred. "Pleasure yourself."

She never once thought that self-pleasure could feel so _good_ , and so unnecessary at the same time. Jonathan was enjoying this new round in their intimate life, torturing her with pleasuring herself in front of him She pumped herself, massaged her clit for some time before Jonathan stopped her. "On your back. I'm going to have you surrender to me now," he whispered seductively as he crawled over her and deliciously agonized her body with his.

~o~

The familiar sound of his daughter's needy wailing through the walkie talkie installed in his and Rachel's room and in the nursery snapped him out of sleep. The feel of his wife's hand on his arm and her whisper of "I'll go" made him want to go back to sleep, but he refused, joining her in Verity's room. Lupa had awoken and joined the couple, acting like guard dog on duty.

Verity was fed and changed, and now Jonathan took it upon himself to rock her to sleep, given Rachel had been with her much of the day. Lupa walked up and rested her head on Jonathan's knee. Then the sound of the ringing phone startled everyone out of their wits. Jonathan cursed; it was one in the morning! Who the hell could be calling them at this ungodly hour? Unless it was Harleen or Talia...

"I'll get it," Rachel muttered, getting up and walking out into the hall. If it _was_ one of the ladies, Jonathan still had no idea why on earth she would be calling at this hour of the night. "What the hell are you doing calling us at this time of night?!"

There was a pause. Then Rachel's voice changed; she sounded more...frightened. Instincts kicking in, Jonathan kept his daughter close to him and stuck himself halfway through the doorway, Lupa joining him. Sensing trouble abroad, she arched back slightly and growled. They watched Rachel turn around to face them, her sweet face etched with indescribable horror as they caught the words mouthed as to _who_ it was.

 _Van Dorn._

~o~

 _"You didn't think I wouldn't ever find out, now would I?"_

"What do you want?" Rachel could feel her body wracking, threatening to give way. Lupa walked over and stood by her as her support, her snarling lowered at its best to not let the bitch DA who had somehow found out her number here to hear her. How did she get it, and what did she want? The warning bells were on.

 _"You're wondering why I called you, and how I got it,"_ Janet said smoothly.

"I am," Rachel said firmly, "and I demand to know."

 _"It was too easy to get to your little friend. The doctor whose sole trust you had until she betrayed you to me."_

 _Harleen_ , she thought with horror. "What have you done to her?"

 _"Nothing yet. All it took was I, the woman in power, threatening her life, putting the Joker's dagger to her neck if she didn't tell me where her former patient was now, having taken off work so abruptly for reasons known to only a few."_

She could hear it all, and the terrible truth itself was coming to fruition. "You know who I am, Janet." She looked up to see the hard face of Jonathan as he began to put it all together. She put Van Dorn on speakerphone, unbeknownst to her.

 _"Poison Ivy. I'm 'delighted' to finally speak to you,"_ Van Dorn said sarcastically. Jonathan's intake of breath was visible but silent. _"But I should skip to the real matters at hand. I knew the Vixen of Vines herself had to be someone who loathed the criminals with a passion as much as I, but I didn't officially put it together until it dawned on me that the one who killed my handy man had to have done it for purely personal reasons."_

Rachel looked up at her husband, whose face contorted into silent rage as the unwanted memories in Arkham began to resurface, but she used her free hand to reach up and touch his cheek gently, silently telling him to remain calm. Van Dorn continued, _"Oh, I knew of dear Lyle's activities with your beloved Scarecrow, yes. But even that did not stop me from getting my turn."_

The bile rose in her stomach, and she could see it in Jonathan's facial expressions. "You slut, you slept with the man who nearly destroyed the man I love..."

Van Dorn laughed, coldly and heartlessly. _"Now, you listen to me, you snoot-nosed, idealistic, lowdown whore. You won't get away with any of this, so in turn, I have a bargain."_

"What do you want, bitch?" Jonathan snarled aggressively, deciding to have no more of this. Rachel felt her world stop; now they were both in trouble.

 _"Oh, Dr. Crane, you finally decided to make yourself present for me. Now that I have you both, I think you should take a listen to what your little friend has to say."_ There was a pause, before she heard the voice of the once high and sunny voice now shrieking with terror.

 _"No, Rachel, don't listen to her!"_

"Don't touch her, you evil bitch!" Jonathan couldn't be all that aggressive; Scarecrow had to be in charge for this. This only made the DA laugh.

 _"Oh, I won't, but my darling lackeys are, only when I give them the signal."_

"Janet, you've sunk so low I wish I killed you myself," Rachel snarled. She was more than ready to get into her costume, arm and charge back into Gotham and save her friends, but there was no telling if there were anymore surprises.

 _"It's too late for that, I'm afraid, sweet one,"_ Janet cooed. Then her voice rose an octave. _"Enough chatter. I want you and your Scarecrow lover to come to me tomorrow at seven evening, sharp...if you want to see your friends."_

"What do you want in exchange?" Nothing ever came without a price.

However, Van Dorn's response surprised her and made her all the more suspicious. _"Nothing in exchange, Rachel. Or, Ivy, I can't decide which you prefer now. But anyways, if I don't see either of you tomorrow, the little bitch and the clown both get it. Is that understood?"_

"It certainly is, you disgusting, by-the-book whore," Rachel growled, and Lupa's own nearly matched her voice. But Van Dorn merely laughed, and the line went dead.

~o~

 _He has Harleen,_ Jonathan thought to Scarecrow in shock. His wife's face contorted into a gape of horror as she stared at the dead phone line, mingled with the nasty taste in his own mouth.

 _ **So she does,**_ his alter agreed. _**She's in need of a knight in shining armor.**_

 _And Joker..._ His mind was abuzz. _How did he end up getting captured by her?_

 _ **Or, ask yourself this, Jonny: is he**_ **really** _ **in her hold?**_

That stopped Jonathan dead in his tracks. _You're right. You're absolutely right. And I don't know if I can let her go through with this._

Scarecrow sputtered. _**Wh-wh-what the hell are you saying? She's independent; she won't listen to you! This is her friend we're talking about! Besides, she's got her game on...**_

"Don't try to stop me, Jonathan," Rachel spoke as though reading his mind. "I need to save her. She's my friend, and I won't let that _bitch_ -" she bit out. "- harm her or anyone else."

It was obvious enough what she wanted to do to Van Dorn, whom he now knew had been the mysterious threat all along. "You want to kill her."

"Nothing would please me more. She's nothing but a she-demon," Rachel hissed.

Nothing pleased him more than to see Janet Van Dorn dead in the ground, either. Jonathan pulled her into his embrace, joining both her and their daughter with him. "Come to bed, and we'll get through tomorrow. As soon as she's done for, we'll leave Gotham for good," he promised her, solemnly and sure.

~o~

 _My dearest Jonathan, I love you with every fiber of my being, but I can't get you into anymore trouble than you were in before. You and Verity. I'm Poison Ivy, and it is my job to protect the innocent, as the Batman, but even you know he has limits. He never kills, and I have to kill Van Dorn. She's caused everyone enough pain, too. She claims she's protecting the innocent, but in truth, she's only as horrible as the criminals she's locked up. She sent Bolton on us, and now that he's gone, it's her turn._

 _Once again, I love you, but I am leaving you to watch over our daughter. I am taking Lupa away with me; she will be my protector, and should you feel the need to come with backup, then I won't stop you. But I swear to you that I will_ _not_ _deprive Verity of both parents. I would rather die than have myself live alone without her father, you and her without me, or her without either of us._

 _Always and ever, Rachel_

Rereading the long note broke her heart into thousands of pieces. Lupa leaned over and gave it a loud sniff. Then she looked up at her and whimpered. Rachel hoped it wouldn't be the last time they were together this way, and if it was...no, she would not think like that. They'd gone through so many dangers together, and as the venomous Poison Ivy, she was indestructible.

Being back in the costume was ethereal and exquisite - and also frightening. Her friend's life was in danger, Van Dorn knew who she was...and now she knew Van Dorn had been what Talia had been telling her. How could Rachel not have put it together sooner?

The corset felt tighter than normal, but that was probably because of the pressure she was feeling. It made her wonder if there was ever a time Bruce felt this way when he donned the Batsuit. Just thinking about him made her realize that once she'd left Gotham, she'd have to abandon all contact with him for the sake of her family. He would be devastated, but if he lost faith in her, then he had to at least keep it in the people.

Putting the note on the nightstand beside Jonathan's sleeping form, she gazed over his sleeping face, regretting leaving him so soon even after another lovemaking session. His features were soft, lips smiling in a dream he had to have of them, and it made her crack one, too. It was painful. It was like that time Bolton took him away from her, and she thought she'd lost him. "Take care of our daughter for me, my Scarecrow," she whispered, stroking his brow tenderly. Smiling, she leaned forward and placed a brief, tender kiss on Jonathan's lips, not wanting to wake him. She'd already kissed Verity good-bye, and it, too, had hurt too much. This was her family that she was leaving behind, but her faith was higher than ever.

Just as soon as she closed the door, the phone rang. Knowing it was Van Dorn again, she snarled aggressively. "Tell me where the location is, Van Dorn."

The woman laughed in response. _"Feisty as ever; I see hiding hasn't changed that in you at all. Meet us at the deck. We have a police blimp taken from the station, but no one reported it stolen, yet. You promise to be there at seven, like we agreed?"_

"You know I will," Rachel answered. _And I know anyone in Gotham who doesn't like you will hail the Vixen of Vines._ Strapping on her belt of blades and guns, she smiled at her reflection in the vintage mirror then. The mask did its magic once more, and Poison Ivy was more than ready to rejoin the battlefield.

~o~

"Rachel?" Jonathan scanned the room, seeing that his wife was nowhere to be found. He frowned, thinking she might be downstairs. Verity had just woken up, her cries getting his attention right away. But when he reached over the nightstand for his glasses, he saw the white paper and picked it up to read.

His heart fell from the love and the despair in the words that etched into his soul.

 _She's gone to Van Dorn. Oh, God, Scarecrow..._

 _ **Oh, you don't have a plan, Casanova?**_

 _I'm thinking,_ Jonathan snapped. One thing for sure: he couldn't leave his baby here alone with no one to care for her. Unless he risked bringing her with him...

The door was knocked on. Thinking it might be Talia, he grabbed Verity and hurried and quickly answered it. However, it wasn't her. Instead it was a familiar face he thought had been captured as mentioned over the phone just last night. "Joker! But I thought you were -"

The clown laughed. "Kidnapped? Nah, but I _do_ know the bitch has my Harley." His dark eyes glittered maliciously. "And for that, I don't like people who take others' girls. Which is why I am here, Jonny."

He nodded, holding Verity closer. "Rachel went to her. But where?"

"She went to the docks," Joker answered. "Police blimp stolen, which is carrying what I think is an...atom bomb."

Jonathan felt his throat tighten. The baby's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between her father and the Glasgow-painted man. Van Dorn...atom bomb... _she's going to blow up the city._ "If she sets it off, she'll destroy the city and everyone in it."

"Mm-hmm, which means we have no time to lose. We stop her, we save the girls, we destroy the bomb itself." He turned and whistled behind him, and in came three thugs of his. Instantly, Jonathan felt his protective instincts kick in as one tried to reach for Verity. Joker laughed and waved his hand. "Relax, Jonny. They're here to watch over the little princess while you and I go on our 'save the damsels in distress' mission."

Jonathan sputtered. _Did - did he call my wife a "damsel in distress"?_

Scarecrow whistled with laughter. _**Sounds fitting to me.**_

 _Do me a favor? Shut up until we save the girls._

 **Yup, I intended an epic conclusion all along, so don't go away. :D Next chapter reaches a thrilling end. Read and review!**


	16. The Final Showdown

**A reference about each generation gets worse is at the beginning of this chapter, having come from "Descent into Darkness" by my friend Vytina, the creator of one of my favorite characters who is the love interest of our very own Jonathan Crane in BTAS - and a retelling of him and Iris DeLaine which I have begun, called "Shadows Nevermore".**

Chapter Sixteen

The Final Showdown

Being at the docks gave her a bad feeling, and Lupa snarled in agreement as she sensed trouble abroad. There would be no way that anyone suspected anything of this sort, but then again, Janet Van Dorn always fooled the people under the guise of a crusading DA whose sole intent was locking up the criminals just because she was from a family of lawyers. _It seems generations_ do _deteriorate._

The rounded but vastly enormous vehicle was not too far a distant from the deck itself, and anyone who noticed would not have deemed anything suspicious, but even if they did, then they would not bother asking questions, keep to their own business. The sun had but begun to fully vanish beneath the horizon, leaving a canvas of dark indigo and soft pastel pinks and golds, and red. Rachel wondered if Van Dorn had any goons with her, but she didn't want to take the chance and risk Harleen's life. By now, Jonathan would have awoken and noticed she was gone. There was still the part of her that didn't want him involved, not after everything.

Lupa seemed to sense her distress and butted her head against her, whimpering softly. Rachel smiled and accepted a little lick on the face from her, before putting her thoughts out of her head completely and drawing one of her guns and making way for the opened door just for her.

She stopped right outside, hiding to one side while the wolf got to the other. "You smell anything, girl?"

Lupa gave a whiff of the air before growling a little. "Not many in there? That's good. Let's go in." They leaped inside together at the same time...

...in time to come face-to-face with guns pointed at them, held by two men in black, masks over their faces to hide who they were... _SWAT guys. Great. Just absolutely great,_ she thought sarcastically. Behind them, she saw a ghost-shaped black figure sitting against the wall next to the controls, squirming and letting out muffled cries for help even though it was useless. _God, Harleen, I'm so sorry I got you into this mess._

And there was the _other_ person at the vehicle's console, in a long dark blue trenchcoat and black leather gloves, long brown hair pinned painfully behind the head. A cold, cruel laugh was heard. "Don't bother, Ivy," Van Dorn said. "They are in _my_ pay, in for a nice large check as those you killed." She turned around. "I would rather throw down the weapons if I were you. The girl will suffer if you don't." To show she wasn't bluffing, she withdrew a .45 from her coat pocket, clicked it and pointed it right at poor Harleen. Then she pulled down the black covering, showing her with a gag over her mouth, cable tying her to a chair. Her blue eyes went wide at the weapon targeted for her head; Rachel could see her forehead sweating from both being covered up and from fear.

Growling viciously, Rachel tossed her guns down and worked on her belt - maybe the corrupted goons wouldn't search her, and maybe Van Dorn wouldn't tell them to search her; slim to no chances of those - and tossed that down as well. Lupa snarled angrily at the man who moved for her; the idiot backed away, whimpering pathetically at an animal of all things. Van Dorn sneered at this.

"Really, a grown man scared of a mere dog?" She shook her head before returning her attention to Rachel. "I'm happy you came alone, though, Rachel. I'd have expected your Scarecrow would come along, too, but no matter. Ready to meet the end of all of Gotham City?"

"You'll kill innocent people," Rachel spat. "The very people you swore to protect."

"Innocent is a strong word to throw around Gotham," her enemy returned. "Nobody is innocent. This whole world is run by greed-ridden, lowdown parasites who feed off of others to keep themselves sustained. Tonight the world will watch as the greatest city blows to nothing, leaving behind ashes and bones. They will be happy that somebody found it in themselves the courage to do what was necessary. And you, Rachel Dawes -"

"It's Rachel _Crane_!" she shouted, trying to get free from the man who grabbed a hold of her by the arms from behind, and Lupa was grabbed by the back of the neck by the other, yelping angrily and trying to bite him. Harleen whimpered; Van Dorn merely smiled maliciously. The cold, ugly, distorted bitch that she always had been continued, undaunted.

"- Poison Ivy, the Vixen of Vines, and the Scarecrow's _concubine_ , will witness it all in your last moments. Not only will this whole city go, but we go with it."

Multiple gunshots behind them ended the conversation right there and there, and the SWAT's fell down, dead. Rachel whipped around behind her to see Joker armed with his Tommy gun, and her Jonathan with him with his own revolver.

~o~

"Hands up, Van Dame; the hurt is on!" Joker cackled, brandishing his gun at her. "Put your weapon down and step away from my woman!"

Rachel doved to grab her weapons, quickly strapping her belt on and drawing one of the Celtic blades. Van Dorn watched the show and simply laughed and shook her head. "You three fools can't stop me. I am holding a gun, too, and I can blow the little lady's head off anytime I can. The bomb goes off in fifteen minutes, so you have to make a choice between her and the whole city to save."

"Take this!" Jonathan watched proudly as his wife threw the knife at the vile woman, the dagger cutting deep into her hand and loosening her hold on her gun. The DA shrieked and clutched her hand to try to stop the oozing bloodflow. "Get her, girl!" Rachel yelled to Lupa, which snarled and jumped onto her, pinning her down, and gnawing into her shoulder. She screamed and thrashed, but the beast kept her down.

"Please!" she howled, reaching out to Rachel. "Please, make it stop!"

Rachel laughed and shook her head. Jonathan stepped forward with his weapon raised. He was more than ready to kill this woman who caused them so much pain as much as the other one did; Rachel killed Bolton, so he would love nothing more than to murder Janet Van Dorn right here and right now. _**Yeah, do it, Jonny, make the bitch suffer,**_ Scarecrow tittered. _**She deserves a delicious, PAINFUL end...**_

"No, wait, Jonny." He stopped midstep, hissing at Joker's interruption. Turning around, he saw the clown had produced a video camera held by the hand. Rachel was untying Harleen, the knife cutting through cable and the gag removed, and once she was done, she helped her crying, fearful therapist and friend out of the place. Jonathan heard her tell her she did not want to see anymore bloodshed, as well as the wolf to stay outside with her. "We need to show all of Gotham who their crusading DA _really_ is," Joker declared, his face split gleefully.

Rachel looked at him for a moment, her expression clearly matching Jonathan's underneath her mask. "Joker, is that absolutely necessary?"

The light was blinking, which Van Dorn noticed and sneered to the camera. "You people want to know who your DA really is? You got it. This atomic bomb will go off, taking me and your precious missing ADA, Rachel Dawes -" She broke off with a howl as Rachel's fingernails dug into the bitten area of her shoulder, then looked directly into the camera with a somber expression.

"This is Poison Ivy, people of Gotham. I've done all I could so far to try to help the Batman clean up the city, killing off the scum who got off so easily when no one else, not even he, could keep locked up. But I'm sorry to tell you that it ends tonight, right now. This woman has been nothing but a fraud to all of you. She cared for no one but herself, and she wanted to destroy the entire city with the bomb. But do not fear, Gotham. This will go off over the bay, clear of the city, I promise."

Jonathan felt his heart pick up a race. Her voice was on the verge of cracking, and it could mean one thing, what she was telling the city: _she's going to let herself go with this thing. No,_ no, NO! _I can't lose her, not now!_

 _ **I doubt she'll stay on here, Jonny. You know her.**_

"Rachel Dawes is dead," she continued, "killed by this woman right here, because she was too jealous and considered her an obstacle. So by the time I go with this bomb, so will the body of the woman you once looked up to, and remember who saved all of you. And if the city is not fixed this way, then keep your faith in the Batman, your dark protector. This is Poison Ivy's final message that I most certainly approve." She nodded for Joker to cut off the footage, which would most likely be memorable for the whole world to see.

"Spot on," he muttered.

"Rachel, no!" Harleen shrieked, stepping into the doorway. "You can't die here, not this way! What about me, and Jonny here and Mistah J, the baby, _this_ baby -" She nodded to Lupa the wolf. "- and everybody else?"

"I have to do this," she said sadly. "For you guys, and for the people of Gotham."

The blonde ran over and threw her arms around her friend, not wanting to let her go, but Rachel gently pushed her away. "Think of me always, Harleen, no matter what. You'll always be a wonderful friend of mine, and make sure this clown treats you right." She gave Joker THE look to emphasize. He only cackled in response.

"Geez, Ives, you're funny." He slapped her back gently instead of hugging her - nobody hugged Joker, not counting those exceptions - and Lupa pranced up to her, whimpering and not wanting her to go, either. She knelt down and kissed the beast; she returned her with licks to her face, making her laugh softly.

"Okay, girl, I love you. Take care of Daddy and Verity for me." She looked up at Jonathan, her promised spouse and her Master of Fear who had been responsible for her metamorphosis. Part of him felt guilty for bringing her up to this point; however, his stronger side urged that if he hadn't, he wouldn't be as happy as he was now. And now he was about to lose her.

"I wish you wouldn't leave," he whispered.

She gave him a little smile, leaning upwards and lowering her voice so no one heard. "Autopilot. I'll return." And then she captured his lips with hers, the warmth and moisture of her lips filling him with the joy he believed he was going to lose. His heart leaped in his chest.

But then it was over. "Alright, let's move out everybody," Joker announced. "We're letting the heroine herself finish her job, regain her honor."

"You're running out of time, Rachel," Van Dorn choked. Jonathan was the only one at the entrance, the odd couple and the wolf behind him outside and on the dock. She was bleeding heavily and choking up blood. "Five minutes."

"And I'll make it worth your time, Janet dear," Rachel cooed, drawing another knife and running its tip lovingly against her cheek in a manner that would disturb anyone else, but it exhilarated both Jonathan and his wife. "Perhaps this is the first and only time I'll ever show you mercy."

Janet Van Dorn had no more final words as the blade slit the flesh of her throat and sprayed blood onto her nemesis's face. The sight, as Rachel turned one last time to smile at him, aroused him greatly that he would have thought was the last time until his life ended without her.

He watched on the dock as the blimp flew off into the distance, taking some time but still at a remarkable speed, given the time it had left, and when it finally happened, the impact far off into the ocean was blinding and lighting up the sky.

"Rest in peace, Rachel," Harleen whispered, making the sign of the cross and leaning into Joker, crying softly.

Lupa whimpered for the loss of her owner, leaning into her other owner who absently reached down to rub the top of her head. Jonathan, however, watched the orange-colored, mushroom-shaped cloud in the distance with a small, secret smile and a ray of hope.

~o~

 _"Just last night an explosion went off over the bay, far from the reaches of Gotham, and this morning the release of a video revealing the horrifying truth about District Attorney Janet Van Dorn, who had the atomic bomb hidden from the world all this time with the intention of destroying a whole city that seemed irreparable from damage. But now that she is gone, also captured and perished in the explosion, this day and the night will be one we hold in honor for the venomous vigilante known as Poison Ivy and our beloved Assistant District Attorney Rachel Dawes, both for whom sacrificed their lives in the explosion which would have taken the entire city."_

Jonathan turned off the television in the manor, holding Verity in one arm and just packing up what was in the place. He was now getting out of Gotham today after the "death" of Rachel, and it was only a matter of time before when she would show up.

In other news, he'd seen, the Joker had been captured by the Batman not long after and sent back to Arkham, Harleen Quinzelle being taken for observation after her kidnapping and her giving of the half-truth. Dr. Quinzelle had been abducted by Van Dorn simply because she was a friend and ransom against Poison Ivy, and Joker had played involvement in rescuing her. And as for him, Jonathan Crane the Scarecrow, he had heard no more news of himself or anymore wanted ads. It was as he predicted; the city believed he was dead, killed someplace else. At least, that had to be what people were saying. He smiled. _For the best._

 _ **Most definitely IS for the best,**_ his alter ego agreed excitedly. _**Finally getting away from this place and going to where nobody else knows you.**_

 _Indeed. But first...we wait for the one herself._

And then the doorbell rang. _**Well, what do ya know?**_ Scarecrow cheered when the door was opened. Jonathan sucked in a breath, and Verity cooed happily at the sight of the person they'd waited for. Lupa barked and howled with held-in relief and happiness, running over and smelling and jumping onto a literally wet, dishevelled, but otherwise alive and well Rachel.

"I kept my promise." Her arms wrapped around both Jonathan and the baby. "Now we can leave and start over as a family."

"Yes, we will." Jonathan kissed her blissfully and longingly. Finally they could have their peace. Life, laugh... _love._

 _ **Sheesh, you're making me gag.**_

 _Shut up. No one's having you in this time._

~o~

 _Rachel's eyes widened at the site of their new home. Their newer, spacious, nicer one with their whole family after living in the lesser area for nearly a year after coming to Chicago. This was in the more luxurious area, just steps from the public transit in a walkable and bicycle-friendly downtown location. Getting around in a breeze, walking around to work in the Loop, driving to the suburbs or picking up groceries across the street... "Jonathan, how the hell could we handle this?"_

 _He laughed and silenced her with a kiss, then gave one to the giggling Verity, now a little over a year old and learning her first steps. The wolf joined them, sniffing the air and walking about to give her new home a tour. "Starting fresh, remember? When I make a promise, I keep it, remember?"_

 _"How can I forget?"_

 _The apartment offered elegant living, impressive views of the Chicago skyline. The lobby they first entered welcomed the Crane family into their new home with a resort-style rooftop pool and sundeck, a state-of-the-art fitness center, an outdoor grilling patio, and a relaxing lounge area. She was too stunned for words; she never thought they'd be living like this, EVER. The kitchen was modernized but also retaining the feel of warmth and invitation, with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, spacious bathrooms and a master bedroom that let the sunshine in. A bedroom that was for the happy couple and their animal guard, who howled with excitement, making them all laugh._

 _Rachel put Verity down so she could wrap her arms around Jonathan's neck, kissing him deeply. "It's gorgeous. It's perfect."_

 _"Hey, hey, easy, Mrs. Crane." He laughed. "Not in front of the kids." He nodded to where the wolf and the little toddler were, watching them both. "Later," he promised her. Later, where it would be just the two of them in front of the world shown through the window behind them, the sunlight shining its blessings down on them..._

~o~

Rachel Crane jerked awake at the sound of a high-pitched squeal of delight from her daughter as she came onto the pool deck with her daddy in tow. "Mommy!" Verity squealed, running up and jumping onto her, giggling. This little girl was not afraid of her own mother, whose skin color differed very much from everyone else's, and it was a miracle she had not said anything yet. God help them if anyone ever found out her true self under the makeup she put on for work or public affairs.

Jonathan laughed as he picked her up, swinging her around, making her laugh again. He laughed with her, happily and the proud daddy he was. Unable to resist, Rachel sat up and rushed to join them, not caring if she got her long white blouse wet - she wore nothing else but the bottom piece of her green bikini - as she joined them for a jump into the pool, all screaming and splashing the other. Verity was too young to learn how to swim yet, so her father held her support and splashed playfully, getting some water onto Rachel. She laughed at the liquid coolant lowering her skin temperature like iced tea.

Lupa had come out to watch the family have their fun; at the sight of her, Verity squealed happily, saying, "Daddy, woof..."

He chuckled. "Alright, little lady, go play with her." He put her down onto the concrete surface and watched with Rachel as the toddler got pampered by the ever-lovable Lupa. Verity was the most beautiful and intelligent little child ever; she picked up on just about anything very quickly, learned to speak words fast, and it made her wonder how on earth a child that age could do that, and Verity was only barely two. She couldn't believe how life had turned out since saving Gotham...and then leaving it. Thinking that and all she'd left behind, a wave of sadness came over. Jonathan noticed this and moved over to hold her.

"I'm sure Harleen and Joker are fine, and Wayne," he assured her, kissing her hair. "Who knows how Talia is handling a crime-clean city nowadays."

Rachel gazed first at the little girl and the wolf, then up at the sky...and finally a pair of eyes that matched it that had taken her breath away and changed her forever at first sight. It was simply stunning: two pure, pristine, crystal blue orbs like the cloudless canvas above them, endless like the bond they shared. Jonathan planted a soft kiss on her lips. "I love you, Rachel. My little flower vixen."

"And I love you, too, Jonathan, my Scarecrow. Always and ever."

 **Another story - well, two of them - I read a few years back were "Agateophobia" and "Limerence", both by TC Stark, and the latter whose epilogue holds the beginning with a news story of Batman's sacrifice in TDKR. :) It had also always been my intentions to make this story end in TDKR fashion, so Poison Ivy can be free with her family and without any interference.**

 **The new Crane home is a real apartment complex in Chicago, and I believe the Loop is either the street name or the neighborhood. I haven't looked in awhile, but it's breathtaking. :)**

 **I am a little sad I finished this, but as we all know, all good stories must come to an end. But I'm also now working on "Shadows Nevermore" as well as a couple Star Trek: Deep Space Nine fics. Feel free to keep yourselves in touch in the meantime if anyone is interested, and I thank you all for the support.**


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